(Victory of the Daleks, Part 2 of 2)
"How did you do it? Come up with the idea for these 'Ironsides', I mean," the Doctor inquired, plopping down in a chair to riffle through a top secret looking folder.
"Ah, how does the muse of invention come to anyone?" Professor Bracewell answered proudly, turning to face the inquisitive Time Lord.
"But you get a lot of these clever notions, do you?" the Doctor pressed, earning a slight cough from David—who mouthed the words, "Conversation, not interrogation."
"Oh, ideas seem to teem in my head—wonderful ideas! Here, take a look!" Professor Bracewell continued, pulling Amy and the Doctor over to the table.
David fingered through a few of the papers Bracewell had left laying out on the desk. The professor had seem subconsciously keen to keep prying eyes away. 'Hmm, blue prints, charts, memos…hang on, we got a winner,' David thought, pulling a small note closer to view:
There are two.
David slowly folded the paper and pushed it into his pocket, brown overcoat swaying at the motion. He could feel his stomach churning. It could mean anything. They could be talking about war plans for god's sake. But when it came to the Daleks—any form of logic got pitched out the window. He felt himself easing backwards to lean against the far wall—ignoring the Doctor's glances. The Time Lord knew David had found something important, but Bracewell wouldn't stop talking.
"I don't know what you're up to, Professor, but whatever they've promised you—you can never trust them. The Daleks are death," the Doctor cut in, gesturing at the bemused man.
"Yes, Doctor, death to our enemies, death to the forces of darkness," the voice of Winston rang out, "And death to the Third Reich!"
"Yeah, and death to everyone else, too," David said, watching as the Doctor became increasingly more agitated.
"Would. You. Care. For. Some. Te—," a Dalek holding an empty tray asked, voice like nails on metallic chalkboard.
"STOP THIS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHAT DO YOU WANT?" the Doctor spat, arm slapping away the empty tray.
"We. Seek. Only to. Help. You. Win. The. WAR," the Dalek responded, unfazed by the Time Lord's outburst.
"Which war? This war and the war against the Nazis, or your war against all life forms that are NOT Dalek?" David countered, feeling an unknown source of rage as he moved forward.
He and the Doctor stood on either side of the "confused" Dalek. Both equally fuming for different reasons. David knew, from past television episodes, what the Daleks were capable of while the Doctor knew from first-hand experience. The Dalek moved its head side to side in a seemingly frenzied motion.
"I Do Not. Understand. I am. Your. Soldier," it grated out slowly.
"Okay, okay, OKAY!" the Doctor said with an edge of venom seeming into his tone.
The Doctor spun around and grabbed the first object he could get his furious hands on. David winced each time the Gallifreyan hit the Dalek—ignoring the pleas of Professor Bracewell and the orders of Winston Churchill. It didn't take a genius to see the hatred pouring from the Doctor's eyes as he shouted at it to "defend itself" and "fight back".
"YOU. ARE. MY. ENEMY! AND I AM YOURS!" the Doctor bellowed, "You are everything I despise. I've defeated you time and time again. I've sent you back into the void. I saved the whole of reality from you—I AM THE DOCTOR, and you are the DALEKS!"
David's eyes suddenly widened. Now it made sense. These Daleks must've thought he was also a Doctor, so all they had to do was get one of them angry enough to…oh damn. He rushed forward, jerking the Doctor back urgently—silencing the Time Lords rage with a glance.
"You don't know what you've just done," David murmured through his teeth as they both turned to look at the Dalek.
"Testimony. Accepted. Progenitor. ACTIVATED," another Dalek voice grated.
The Doctor grabbed David's arm, eyes wild and questioning.
"You really think there was just a few?" David hissed, as the Dalek in the room seemed to gain an air of hostility.
"MARINES. MARINES. GET IN HERE!" shouted Winston, only to see those same men get cut down by a blast from the Dalek's laser.
"Stop this! You are my Ironsides! I created you!" Professor Bracewell implored, waving his hands out in front of himself.
"No. We. Created. YOU," the Dalek responded, shooting off Bracewell's hand to reveal a network of intense circuitry within the stump.
"VICTORY. VICTORY. VICTORY," the other Dalek shouted, disappearing in a bright teleportation glow with the first Dalek.
oooooo
The Doctor had dashed off in a hurry, leaving Amy and David behind to deal with a very cross Winston Churchill. They would just have to trust that the Time Lord could take care of himself. 'Especially since he just walked on to a Dalek ship about to make newer—stronger—Daleks,' David thought, grimacing as he leaned closer to Amy in the war room.
"The lights! The lights are on, sir!" a voice rang out amidst the flurry of activity.
"Not good?" Amy asked, voice hinting that she already knew the answer.
"Definitely not good. All the lights in London just got permanently switched on," David answered through gritted teeth, "We're sitting ducks unless we do something about it—god damn Daleks."
"Alright, enough," Amy snapped, spinning David to face her, "I can kind of figure why the Doctor would hate the Daleks—but you? Why?"
"We're forgetting something," David said, avoiding her question, "A gift left by the Daleks. Amy, Winston—come on!"
"Doctor, stop," Amy said firmly, "Answer my—."
"Don't. Call. Me. Doctor," David said evenly, his voice taking a dangerous tone as the group moved down the hall and into Professor Bracewell's office.
"Why not? He does, when he thinks you're not aroun—," Amy inquired.
"BRACEWELL, what in god's name are you doing?" Winston interrupted, turning everyone's attention to the gun in the professor's undamaged hand.
Amy rushed forward and snapped the gun away—handing it to David as she leaned in to speak with the clearly distraught professor. It seemed like only moments later when the conversation got Winston's interest. The Prime Minister leaned in as well and pointed at the document containing information regarding the "gravity bubble" technology.
oooooo
Professor Bracewell wheeled in a transmitter fitted with a screen. This would help them be able to see Dalek transmissions. David gave it a firm thump on the side and suddenly the screen was filled with an image of the Doctor surrounded by a new type of Daleks.
Winston gave a firm head nod to a captain, who started chirping out military code through a headset. 'God, I hope this works,' David thought, hands clenching the table near the monitor.
"Can you tell what he's threatening them with?" Amy said, squinting as she pressed her face as close as possible to the screen.
"TARDIS self destruct button," David answered, "Don't worry, it's just a—."
"—pair of car keys, I think. You know, the fancy type with a car alarm clicker attached to it?" Amy stated, leaning back in slight confusion.
"Oh…he didn't," David groaned, hand covering his face.
"What?" Amy smiled slightly.
"Those are mine, and I swear to god if the Daleks don't kill him—I will," David grunted, peeking through his fingers, "It's a long goddamn walk home if it melts while he's jabbing one in the eye-stalk."
"LOOK! It's working!" Amy shouted, pointing excitedly at the monitor screen.
The Doctor's voice rang out, noting a key target area for the squadron of planes now soaring through space—courtesy of Professor Bracewell's gravity bubbles. The Daleks, now sensing a turn in the battle, began firing at the Doctor as he nimbly dashed back to his TARDIS.
oooooo
"Doctor. Call. Off. The. Attack. Or. We. Will. Destroy. The. Earth," the supreme Dalek growled through the TARDIS's monitor feed.
"I'm not stupid, mate, you've just played your last card," the Doctor replied smugly.
"Bracewell. Is. A. Bomb," it continued.
"You're bluffing. Deception's second nature to you, there isn't a sincere bone in your body—there isn't a…bone in your body," the Doctor said, face growing more severe with every passing second.
"His. Power. Is. Derived. From an. Oblivion. Continuum," the supreme Dalek stated, "Call. Off the. Attack. Or. We. Will. DETONATE. The Android."
The Doctor snapped off the screen furiously. He could rid the universe of these vile creatures once and for all. He just needed to let the squadron do its job. He just…
The Time Lord felt tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. He knew that if he let them go, he'd be unleashing a new breed of stronger Daleks. But…he couldn't let the earth "die screaming".
"Choose. Doctor," it grated, "Destory. The Daleks. Or. Save. The Earth."
The Doctor closed his eyes tightly. His decision was made.
oooooo
The squadron had been called off.
David stared at the now empty monitor in silence as the Doctor worked feverishly to disarm Professor Bracewell—who was literally a bomb. Amy attempted to see if there were any red or blue wires they could cut. When that failed, the Doctor returned to scanning the chest piece—now beginning to glow a brighter shade of yellow-to-red.
"Tell me about your life, Bracewell," David asked gently, fingering a switch on the defunct monitor screen.
"I hardly think this is the time and place!" Professor Bracewell replied, nervousness bleeding into his voice.
"No, it's important," David stated, staring into the eyes of the scared man, "Tell me everything."
Ignoring the stares of the others, David kneeled next to the frightened man. Listening as a story of life and love fell in a frenzy from Bracewell's lips. He kept his eyes on the chest piece colors—they were still glowing a fierce red. David felt Amy sit next to him, and he let her get in close.
"Hey, paisley, ever fancy someone you shouldn't?" she whispered, "Hurts, doesn't it…but a good hurt."
"I really shouldn't talk about her," Professor Bracewell answered shyly.
"What was her name?" the Doctor inquired softly, taking a knee opposite of Amy and David.
"Dorabella," Professor Bracewell murmured, his face lighting up.
"And what was she like?" David continued, now fully aware that the lights were dimming.
"Her eyes were like the last touch of sunset on the edge of the world…Dorabella," Professor Bracewell smiled, the last of the lights returning to their neutralized state.
oooooo
But ultimately, it was too late. The Daleks were gone…
It was clear that the Doctor felt the bitter defeat. The Daleks had known he'd choose to save earth. But so had David…and in some ways…it hurt him more. 'I should've said something…DONE something…sooner,' He thought painfully, watching the Doctor and Amy talk to Professor Bracewell. The plan was to allow the professor to live a normal life—he'd earned it.
David ducked into the TARDIS, leaving the Time Lord and the redhead to talk privately. His fingernails were once again slicing into his palms. 'No. No. No. Don't do this now,' David thought, taking deep breaths as he went deeper and deeper into the ship.
He finally found his room—now unlocked—and stood, facing the mirror. Long brown overcoat, suit and tie, and red chucks… 'Doctor, indeed,' David thought—shattering the mirror with his fist.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
AN: Wow, I never expected so many comments! Thank you for the feedback. First time writing a Doctor Who fanfic, so really (REALLY) thank you for your kind words and comments/critiques. Apologies for the slight dragging of feet, I've got some vacation time coming up—so I shall be typing more then (bear with me). I've got big plans for some future episodes/story lines, so hopefully that won't disappoint. It's a really big maybe to a 50th anniversary fanfic featuring this characterization of David (each of these episodes take a few days to write—perils of early morning typing, sorry!). But I won't factor it out—I'll let all of you know. :)
General FYI: I'm going off the hive-mind/collective connection that the Daleks have with each other (so they would know 10's face [for the sake of this story, they do]). David does have knowledge of the TV version (Doctor Who), but he's not really keen on making that a prominent factoid—who's to say it'll always stick to script (wink)?
Enough of my chatter. I should hopefully have more posted on timely manner (just depends on the work schedule). Thank you for your patience! Enjoy! :D