Disclaimer: The Daleks would exterminate anybody who would ever claim ownership over them or the universe they try to conquer, except their creators. Which I'm not. So, I don't own.
Wrath and Pain
(S.5 Ep. 3)
-o0O0o-
The Daleks still exist and cause mayhem as always. The Storyteller is not amused.
-o0O0o-
She combed through her new thick hair again, thoughtfully taking in her face in the mirror. It was wrong to call her pretty, but she had never been that before, anyway. Beautiful, sure, in her own individual way, one time even sexy and stunning but except that one regeneration: average. Just an average Time Lord. She liked her eyes and the rest was… well, she would grow to it. It would be way easier than this new way she had to live her life now.
She should have known, he was a renegade, after all. It was still kind of disturbing that he had no place to return to at all. The closest to a home he could return to might be his human's home. But even she had no desire to go back to earth. The TARDIS was their home, they had laughed.
Traveling the universe, helping out when needed. It did not sound that bad. It was what she would do if she... if she still had her TARDIS. Protecting the web of time, traveling to important fixpoints and guarding them.
But he had frozen and fidgeted with his fingers while stuttering that it was more like a way of "kinda gallivanting around and having fun." She had politely nodded and that human had grinned hopefully. Somehow, she still seemed convinced the Storyteller and that Kapoaka were the same person. How annoying.
In an attempt to tame her hair, she collected it into a bun but, somehow, it felt wrong. Strict. Her face was too triangular for this. Not average. She needed something special but still normal, something individual, setting her apart from the masses without them rejecting her. That was the meaning of average. The middle. Because everything else would lead to attention. She tried a ponytail with a side bang on the left of her face. Not bad but unfitting for this outfit at least.
She regarded the brown dress in the mirror again. The TARDIS had provided her with it when she had asked for something fitting the time period they currently were in. The second World War, the humans called it. The war to end all wars. Pah.
But she liked that side bang. In a sudden inspiration, she cupped the upper half of her hair into a little bun resting on the back of her head while the rest flowed freely over her shoulders, leaving that side bang in place. She smiled. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, milady Storyteller." She bowed, waiting for the answer, the light but deep chuckle...
Which would never come again. Her gut clenched. She was…
Kelliox…
… Gallifey….
She was… alone…
Eternal guardians, she was…
…. They all were…
Death.
A nearly forgotten word in her society. Time Lords never died. They regenerated, and if their cycle was over, their mind was uploaded into the Matrix, forever preserved. They were never simply… gone.
She clutched the pendant of her necklace, realizing with every second in which her husband didn't appear to stroke her back as he used to whenever she was distressed the real meaning of this word. How lucky, how lucky the Time Lords had been.
No.
She refused to drown deeper in this hole of misery. She was not completely alone. The Doctor had been the one who had taken all she had ever known from her and this was unforgivable. But he was also the only one left, so it was only logical to stay with him. Everything ends, the merciless and first rule, so logical it wasn't even written down in the law of time. She had to come to terms with this new reality. Just an average person, hold your head down as always.
Angry about herself, she wiped away the tear rolling down her cheek and placed the unreadable, polite mask on her face again. She had promised Kelliox not to weep over him. No self-respecting member of her race let its emotions get in the way of what had to be done. She would mourn him, of course she would. As every other lost member of her species. And then she was going to let them go. When she was ready. As it was tradition.
She let her gaze wander over herself in the mirror, her fringe, her makeup-free face. Her polished, flat shoes and that disturbingly short dress which covered her neck properly but neither her ankles nor wrists, ending about twenty centimeters above the floor. The gloves with which she almost successfully corrected those short-comings, at least at her arms. She scolded herself mentally for the pun. She had missed Kelliox's absence, again. Oh, for time's sake! She was in mourning, why was her mind not able to comprehend that she would never hear his laughs at her miserable attempts at jokes again?
She had searched the wardrobe room, she knew it existed, she had been there before. But this damn Machine had sent her walking in circles, forcing her to accept this barely acceptable outfit in the end. She sighed and left her room.
She had slept, her tiredness an unpleasant but nevertheless important phase after regeneration. By the time of her awakening she had found the TARDIS empty and parked on some planet. Which turned out to be Sol III in one of its more violent times. They had talked about making a stop here before, visiting this Chancellor, no, Prime Minister called Churchill, which she had politely denied. It had left her with a bad feeling, but after the first surprise and nagging of the Doctor and her insistence on staying in the TARDIS, they obviously had accepted her choice.
The TARDIS followed the Storyteller's plea to provide information promptly and showed her some basic data about this so-called World War. Somehow the Time Lord couldn't quite shake of the feeling that she wanted her outside, too. Like pilot, like TARDIS it seemed.
All her suspicions confirmed themselves when a silver key materialized itself next to her right hand, which rested on the controls, so she had a better view of the screen.
She took a determined step back and sat down on the chair next to the Stairs. "No."
And landed on her backside as the chair dematerialized under her.
A curse escaped her, and she clasped her hands before her mouth mortified. Oh dear. It seemed this regeneration hadn't lost that disgusting tendency to a very colorful language she had developed over the war. Of all the things they could change of course this one they hadn't. Typical.
"I apologize, this was very rude. I will avoid expressions like that in the future. Although I insist on staying here." She stood up and brushed her clothes carefully. "The Doctor and this human are dangerous enough in their meddling. I wish not to disturb time any further."
The chair materialized on its place with the shimmering key on it.
Enough was enough.
"I refuse to participate in an argument with a TARDIS."
She took the stairs to leave the control room but the second she reached the upper deck she suddenly was on the bottom again. Seriously?
For the first time Lady Storyteller allowed herself an annoyed huff, glaring at the blue liquid in the time rotor.
"This is utterly and completely childish. I do not enjoy galivanting around the universe, especially not another planets. Also, I have no desire being in a warzone again. I had enough of that for all my thirteen regenerations, thank you very much."
This time she was able to walk the stairs without any setbacks. (Realy?)
Or at least the first four before the Doors busted open.
"Doctor?"
He ignored her and ran up to the console, frantically tipping in coordinates. His extravagantly behavior was still something she had to get used to. A Time Lord neither run nor waved around like that. Also, a Time Lord answered when spoken to.
"Doctor!"
He loosened the parking brakes and turned. Was that fear….?
"Keep them save."
"What?"
He ignored her confused slip up. "It's pretty easy, I'll handle this. Listen, just don't do anything stupid I'd do. Do it exactly as I'd do. Err, there's a slim line whatya can do."
"I beg your pardon, but I am afraid I do not understand…."
Then she noticed the guilt in his eyes and the fact she could see through him.
"Doctor! You do not dare… Doctor! Doctor!"
But he had left her behind. Again.
Aghast she stared at the grey wall where the console had been a breath before. "Tella?"
And the world froze.
-o0O0o-
Amy didn't like that woman one bit. This should be the same person as Sheela? Shy, practical, sweet Sheela? She still had goosebumps from the glare and the silent but strict plea to not ever call her Tella again. Her name was Storyteller, regardless how the Doctor might call her.
She glanced at Churchill, who critically followed every move the Time Lady made in her inspection of the Professor. Sorely with her eyes, the Storytellers gloved hands never touched him.
And even if this clearly weirded Professor Bracewell out, he still sounded hopeful.
"And? Can you heal me?"
The Storyteller stopped. "Heal you?"
"Yes. From, whatever this is! Whatever they did to me. Please!"
She bent forward and inspected his eyes again. "Without damaging the positronic nerves? Impossible without at least the equipment of a TARDIS. And even then, some of the humanizing basic codes will remain, probably. I am a Timeengineer, not a mechanic."
Bracewell blanched with the confirmation of what everybody in the room knew but didn't dare to say aloud. "So... my whole life is a lie. Everything... but what about my Inventions... Is ... something like me really able to invent all this..."
He began frantically rummaging his desk, collecting all the blueprints in a messy pile and shoving them at the Storyteller. "Here, look. I did this! I invented all those..."
And she absentmindly flapped through them, naming them even if there was no description on the sheet. Bracewell sunk on his chair while she carelessly laid them back on the desk. "They exist. They all already exist. There are some interesting twists on some of them, caused by the low technology of this age, and I have no idea if they work or not, because I am not qualified in this area. But those inventions do not belong to you, Professor Bracewell."
Amy gulped at the calm, merciless voice. Definitely not Sheela. Never.
Bracewell shook his head. "No, no that's impossible. My life is a lie. So, then it is. But I'm not some mindless machine, simply copying others!"
"Without any doubt. The complexity of your construction is astonishing, considering the low-grade technology used in doing so. But then, you were created by Daleks. They never do half work. A pity, to destroy a masterwork like you."
"Wait, stop! What?" Amy instinctively stepped protective between Bracewell and the Storyteller. Churchill also puffed out his cheeks, took his cigar between two fingers and pointed at the Time Lady.
"There is no need for such drastic measures, ma'am. He might not be human, but there is no need to kill him because of this. He's a good man. It doesn't matter what he is, just on which side he is."
The Storytellers face was unmovable. "Which is an accurate description of the situation at hand. He is a very real and dangerous threat. Everything created by Daleks is, without any exception."
His eyes narrowed while he put his cigar back into his mouth. "You know a lot of those so-called Daleks, do you?"
"They were the reason for the war which caused the destruction of my planet, leaving the Doctor and me as the sole survivors of our species."
Churchill's cigar went slack, while Bracewell eyes nearly popped out his face out of fear. No wonder the Doctor had reacted this aggressively, when he had seen those Buckets. The fear of him Amy had felt that moment, turned into pity. And, yeah, he had been right, they were up to no good. Even if Amy had no idea what they were planning. But still, she needed to stop Lady Storyteller from doing something rash. "So, how do you think is he a threat."
Bracewell frantically shook his head. "I'm not! I won't harm anybody. I'm on you side, please!"
The Storyteller nodded. "I believe you. But I am afraid, you have no influence on this matter. They need a connection to control you which leads exactly in their command center. They most certainly hear every word we are speaking now. Besides the fact that you are either empowered by a Gravity Circlet or an Oblivion Continuum. I am not able to differ between them; the containment mechanism is nearly identical. The former will shatter the whole town, the later will fragment earth and spill them through all dimensions, when blown up. You are an already happened disaster, Professor Bracewell. The ultimate sleeper, with the destructive efficiency only the Daleks process. A combination of a bugging device and a bomb."
Bracewell gulped. "Is... is there any way of defusing... me?"
"Besides powering down and dismantling, you mean? None that I am aware of."
They all went silent.
"So, how exactly does this connection works", Churchill suddenly piped up.
"Most certainly, they use a specific frequency to send commands, why?"
"Like radio waves," the prime minister asked for confirmation, and lady Storyteller nodded. "Not quite, but basically, yes."
"Oh," Amy grinned when she understood. Of course. "Radio works both ways. We can use their own Bugging device to spy on them!"
Tella's eyes glittered surprised, but her face didn't move. "That could actually work. Under the premise that we can locate and decode the frequency. It also will give us a forewarning, if they should activate your self-destruction mechanism."
"And leaves us with enough time to do something against it. So, we don't need to kill Bracewell at all," Amy added joyfully. "Sounds good to me!"
"Me to," Bracewell joked but relief clearly o his face, "I think I already have an Idea how to make this work... Yes. Yes... that could do it..."
And he launched himself into the mess of electronic parts and tools that was his workshop. The Storyteller's eyes followed him watchfully, and Amy was in the process of saying something, when suddenly a solider stumbled into the workshop. "The lights! The lights are on, Sir. The lights in whole London won't go off!"
-o0O0o-
"It's them. It has to be them. The Daleks did something to the Lights." Amy mumbled.
Churchill worriedly flipped through some paper someone handed him the moment he entered the commando room. "The Germans can see every inch of the city. We're sitting ducks. Get those lights out before the Germans get here! Thousands will die, if we don't get those light out."
A man next to him confirmed and started to bark orders in a phone. Too late, because a second later a Woman stepped next to them.
"German bombers sighted over the Channel, sir. ETA ten minutes, sir."
Churchill huffed. "Of course there are. Get a message to Mister Attlee. War Cabinet meeting at oh three hundred hours. If we're all still here."
Amy shook her head. "We can't just sit here. We've got to take the fight to the Daleks."
"And how, Miss Pond? None of our weapons are a match for theirs. We're not even sure if this UFO is where they are."
That moment Bracewell and Tella came in. He had something on his head, looking like extremely wired headphones which were plugged into a little TV. "Got the frequency, it works!"
Amy nodded and thought. "Ok, there's something on the side of the moon. Can we see if the signal comes from there?"
She pointed on the radar with the strange picture on it. They surprisingly left it there, even if the Nazis were coming. Tella needed only one glance. "This is indeed a Dalek Saucer. Are you sure, there is only one?"
"Not important right now," Bracewell interrupted, not noticing Tella's glare, "the Doctor just said the Daleks should turn the light of. So, it's them."
Churchill hummed. "So, in order to stop the Nazis, we need to stop the Daleks. Which is impossible."
Amy grinned. "Not necessarily. They left us a gift, just as clever as they are."
Tella shook her head in a precise movement from left to right. "No, this is too risky. We cannot be sure if one of his inventions will turn out doing the exact opposite of what it is supposed to do."
"That's why you're here."
"I will not be the overseer of a mechanical device trying to wage war against its creators, thank you very much. Neither will I tolerate the violation of earth's history in granting you accesses to devices not fitting the technological grade of this time period."
"Violation of history," repeated Amy, not believing what she just heard," Violation... The only ones violating history are the Daleks, currently making sure the Nazis will erase London! I don't want to know what that does to history."
"The Doctor will find a way to solve this situation. There are enough legend of him coming out of far worse circumstances."
"Eh, not sure about that. He got company," Bracewell interrupted, eyes glued to the screen. And really, somehow fife new Daleks had turned up, just to destroy the three first ones. Because the were... not pure enough? What?
Amy cleared her throat. "At least he has that self-destruction button."
"A type forty doesn't have a mobile self-destruction button," Tella flatly corrected." Even not one upgraded to Mack III. It's ... a ...sweet. One of those round things he constantly eats. He's bluffing."
Amy rose both eyebrows. "He bluffed himself into a stalemate, with a Jammie Dodger. He absolutely needs our help. "
That moment the woman responsible for the bad news made another announcement. The Nazis had reached the London east end. Amy gulped. The Doctor would have been already in the workshop, in the middle of everything. But he was, wasn't he.
"Te... Lady Storyteller, please! They get better tech, yes, but they save earth's history."
"And we defeat those Daleks once and for all," Churchill added.
She didn't answer for long time. Really long.
"Storyteller," Amy carefully asked.
The Time Lady looked up. Her voice was as calm as ever, but something about her had changed Amy couldn't pinpoint.
"There are already Pilots on standby, correct." The Man at the phones nodded, and she continued. "Bracewell, how many functioning prototypes of those... what do you call them... gravity bubbles? How many do you have and how fast can they be on that airbase and installed?"
-o0O0o-
"Direct hit!", Danny boy confirmed, and the room erupted into cheers.
"Yes!"
Amy jumped and hugged the person next to her starring at the screen and listened concentrated to the messages. Or tried to, because the Storyteller cringed back and rose her hands protectively.
Amy smiled apologetic. "Sorry, didn't want to startle you. Just a hug. Because they did it!"
She moved forward a second time, but Tella, again, took a full step backwards, clearly irritated.
Ok?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the Doctor's sudden, downright panicked voice crackling over the radio.
"The Doctor to Danny Boy. The Doctor to Danny Boy. Withdraw."
"Say again, sir. Over."
"Withdraw. Return to Earth. Over and out."
Churchill frowned. "What is he doing?"
Amy shook her head. "I have no idea!" She stopped, noticing a dangerous looking read light flashing at the screen connected to Bracewell. "Eh, is that thing there supposed to blink?"
Tella's mouth thinned. "Bracewell. On the floor. Now."
"What?" The Professor wasn't the only one confused.
"They activated the destruction sequence. Now, lay down on the floor, please."
Oh! Amy's eyes widened in understanding. "That's why he's withdrawing!"
Bracewell carefully sat down on the floor, white as a sheet. "Actually, I kind of feel like -"
"Nonsense, "Tella interrupted, "The sequence does not interfere with any of your inner workings. It is mere imagination. What a masterpiece, indeed."
Right next to them the TARDIS materialized, and the Doctor nearly jumped out of it's doors. "Bracewell...!"
Surprise written all over his face, he took in the sight before him. "Oh..."
"Perfect Timing," Tella gestured to the other Time Lord to come over. "May you help me getting him into the TARDIS now, please?"
"Why should we take him into the TARDIS? He's blowing up any second."
"Exactly. That is why we must hurry so we can still catch them."
"Catch..." His eyes suddenly widened in understanding. "What? No! Nonononono!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"We are not using the Professor as a bomb to blow up that Saucer, Tella!"
"What," Amy took a step back from the Time Lady. Ok, what the hell was wrong with that woman!
"S-Sorry?", stuttered Bracewell, too, but T... Lady Storyteller ignored both of them.
"Then what other solution do you propose? It is impossible to defuse an activated gravity circlet, and by bringing the Professor on that Saucer we not only save this planet but also get rid of that venim."
"Then we're lucky it's an Oblivion Continuum, aren't we," the Doctor shot back, anger barely contained in his voice. Amy gulped. Great. Of course, it was the worse one.
"I see," the Storyteller answered nonchalantly, „of course it is. You always have to expect the worse from those buckets. Which rests my case."
"Nope."
The Doctor ripped Bracewell's shirt open out of nowhere and soniced his chest. They were to surprised by the lid opening up on his torso to actually think about the weirdness of the situation. There was a circle with nine blue glowing fields and one yellow. Nope, two now. A countdown.
Amy's voice was a bare whisper. "When all fields have turned yellow, he'll blow up, right?"
Exactly then a third field turned yellow and the first one tuned from yellow to red.
"Red," confirmed the Doctor absentmindedly without stopping to fiddle with the screwdriver.
"So, what do you propose then, "Tella asked, "or do you know how to defuse an already happened explosion?"
"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! Never seen one up close before."
"There's a blue wire or something you have to cut," Amy blurred out, "isn't there? There's always a blue wire. Or a red one."
The Storytellers disbelieving glance was enough of an answer. The Doctor also merely looked up. "You're not helping."
Amy bit her lip. Well, she tried at least. Without sacrificing or killing somebody to save them.
Churchill shook his head in awe at the display, finally finding words.
"It's incredible. He talked to us about his memories. The Great War..."
And the Doctors face lit up with an Idea. Finally. "Yes! Of course!"
"Doctor," the Storytellers gaze never left him.
He ignored her and poked Bracewell's chest over the circle.
"You are human, Bracewell. Remember it, cherish it. There're someone else's stolen thoughts, implanted your positronic brain. Stolen, but real. Tell me about it, Bracewell. Tell me about your life."
The professor gulped. "Doctor, I really don't think this is the time. Maybe the Lady - "
"No! Tell me, and prove you're human. Tell me everything. I don't let any human die today!"
Tella snorted. "You just let this pilot fly to his death into the ray shield. You have been already in the TARDIS after they first charged. You could have saved them, by deactivating that shield as soon as you would have reached the console."
"I didn't know it was there!"
"Oh, please. It is a Dalek saucer out of the time war. Of course, it has shields!"
"Guys!", Amy interrupted. There were only one blue and two yellow fields left.
"Amelia is right, we need to get him in the TARDIS. We must not let them get away!"
"No."
The Doctor became more and more silent in his attempts while he tried to convince Tella. More focused. It was terrifying. "There's another way. There has to be. Tell me about your family, Edwin."
"He is an android Doctor. You cannot change the very essence of a being like that."
"Watch me!"
"Under other circumstances, gladly, but now we hardly have the time for it. A mental manipulation at this scale sorely with words needs at least four minutes."
The Storytellers voice didn't change. Yes, she was not human. But in a completely different way than the Doctor ever would be. And yet just as oddly magnetic, because Amy couldn't take her eyes of the Time Lady, even with that cold lump in her guts.
"I do not trade lifes," the Doctor hissed.
"It is exactly what you do. By saving this one life you risk to unleash the Daleks on this universe again. Bay saving that one planet, you condemn thousands of others to destruction. We can end it here and now!"
"No. I'm going to fix this. I'll save Bracewell and I'll stop the Daleks."
"Doctor, assuming those preposterous legends are true, not even you can - "
"Shut up!"
And strangely enough, she did. Her hand wandered to her necklace but other than that, she went still, simply observing. The Doctor didn't notice but continued.
"Shut. Up. Bracewell ignore her. Tell me. Your parents, your home!"
And when nothing came from the silent form of the Time Lady, Edwin Bracewell started to stutter about his family. But it didn't work.
Even his most painful memories of his family count help him. Didn't let him feel human, or at least that's what the Doctor apparently tried to do. But... Was that what it meant to be human. Loosing people? Constantly losing the ones, you... loved?
The Doctor starred at the only yellow field left. "It's not working, "He croaked, "I can't stop it." His eyes helplessly glided over them, glancing helpless at the Time Lady, who had turned away and absentlmindly stared at a point at the wall, still saying nothing. "Why doesn't it work..."
Amy leaned forward. At the end of the day, he was an alien just like the Storyteller. Not Human, so what did he knew of being human. She kneeled down and started to speak in a low, calming voice. The total opposite of the Doctors energetic encouragement, just a few seconds ago.
"Hey, Paisley. Ever fancied someone you know you shouldn't?"
"What?" The professor stared bewildered up at her.
Out of the corner of her Eye, Amy saw the Doctors face lighting up, and the Storyteller turning around, her hand clenching her necklace and her gaze focusing laser-like on Amy and the man on the ground. But she still said nothing.
Amy grinned at the clearly amazed Doctor, before looking down and continued.
"It hurts, doesn't it? But kind of a good hurt."
Bracewell's eyes darted between the two persons leaning over him.
"I... really shouldn't talk about her."
Amy rose her eyebrows.
"Oh. There's a her."
And with the small, warm smile growing on Bracewell's lips, the yellow field turned back to blue with a beep.
The Doctor immediately took over.
"What was her name?"
"Dorabella," Bracewell whispered finally.
The Doctor started grinning.
"Dorabella? It's a lovely name. It's a beautiful name," he hastily added. The Storyteller stepped closer, despite her immovable Pokerface clearly interested.
Amy continued.
"What was she like, Edwin?"
He was clearly beaming now, despite the bittersweet hurt of a rejected love written all over his face. "Oh, such a smile. And her eyes. Her eyes were so blue. Almost violet, like the last touch of sunset on the edge of the world."
He sighted dreamingly. "Dorabella."
And with eight other beeping noises the countdown shut down.
"Welcome to humanity," the Doctor whispered.
He jumped up.
"You're brilliant. You're Brilliant."
He pointed at Churchill and then at Bracewell, before he turned to Amy.
"And you, I..." Unable to find any words, he kissed her on her forehead and beamed at her. The Doctor clapped his hands and twirled around.
"Now." He snipped his fingers and pointed with both hands at Tella, who still stood there silent like a ghost with an unreadable mask on her face.
"Got to stop them. Stop the Daleks."
And with that, he dashed to the TARDIS.
"Wait, Doctor. Wait, wait. It's too late."
The Doctor stopped and turned to the man, now sitting on the floor.
"Gone," said Bracewell. "They've gone."
The Time Lord shook is head. "No. No! They can't. They can't have got away from me again!"
"No, I can feel it," the Professor tapped his forehead. "My mind is clear. The Daleks have - "
The smack echoed in the sudden silence of the room, as everybody grasped. Even the staff who had continued their work at the phones and the map, regardless of what had happened the last few minutes, now stared at the Storyteller.
Who stared at her right hand just as warily as everybody else. As if that offending limp didn't belong to her. She even started to curiously inspect her hand, tilting her head, tuning it back and forth and flexing her fingers, as if it was something alien she had never seen before. All while the Doctor stood dumbfound frozen before her, wide eyed stare fixed on her face. Her eyes finally flickered to his, her hand still raised between them, and she starred right back. They didn't move, as if time stood still. And nobody dared to interfere. Tella opened her mouth to say something but stopped and took a shaking breath instead. Her eyes flickered again to her still raised hand and back, then she snorted, although it was more like a mixture of a kicking of her thounge and a huff. It sounded a bit like a broken laughter.
"Why did you not just let me die with all the others."
And with that she whirled around and burst into the TARDIS, leaving the doors open and disappeared into the depths of the ship. Nobody dared to move.
The awkward silence was interrupted by a cough of the woman with the news. "Eh, the German Bombers are retreating, sir. Also, Danny Boy successfully returned to base."
Churchill, flinched out of his stupor, taking his cigar out of his mouth. "What? Yes, yes. Good. Carry on."
And that, they did.
Amy helped Bracewell up, before she carefully neared herself the Doctor, who still stared at the half open TARDIS Doors. "Doctor?"
He snapped around, his hand for the first time unconsciously touching his cheek and immediately pulling back with a hiss from the already forming bruise. That slap had been a direct hit, the Storyteller seemed to be stronger than she looked. So had been Sheela. But there was no possibility that those two were one and the same person. Ever.
"Don't take that personally. She... is glad to be alive. You saved her. Just like now. It's okay, you did it. You stopped the bomb. Doctor?"
"I had a choice," he mumbled. "And they knew I'd choose the Earth. They couldn't predict...her," -his eyes flickered to the TARDIS-" but they still knew I would never trade a life. They knew, the Daleks have won. They beat me. They've won."
"But you saved earth," Amy insisted, pushing aside the memory of the Storytellers words of dooming the universe. "Not too shabby, is it? Is it."
And finally, he smiled. "No, it's not too shabby."
Amy smiled back, with the lump in her guts growing heavier. It seemed he needed her, if this adventure was anything to go by. Especially with the Storyteller around. This whole adventure thing proved itself a lot more different than she had imagined. And a loot cooler, too.
AN: I know there are just five fields to Bracewell's countdown, but I needed a bit more time for the argument going on, so I turned it into nine. That Episode always weirded me out completely. But it's also the perfect setting to describe the clash between Tella's and the Doctor's world view, as well as Tella's uhm... distaste for the Daleks. As well as a first glimpse of her utter self-hate. Please remember that Time Lords once saw themselves above violence, and she still does. Also, Tella is a heavily unrelatable narrator in regard of the Time Lords and their Ideals, we've seen what they were like. She also lived outside the citadel, so she didn't quite noticed what was going on there.
Thanks to loulouflowerpower for following and the review!
Greetings
alkatie
KD 05072018
