NOTE: Doesn't really fit in all that well to the larger narrative- I wrote it during a completely different phase of plot development. Features paradox shenanigans.
Rose tries not to hide behind the Doctor as they're led at gunpoint down a long, metal corridor. The bowels of the ship smell of oil and grease and she's fairly sure she would have been sick by now, if not for the less-than-comforting knowledge that this is by far not the worst place she's been in. Just a few months with the Doctor has taken her to so many wild, amazing, and sometimes horribly foul places. A few gas fumes aren't going to bother her. She stands up marginally straighter and allows the Doctor to get a little bit ahead of her. Just a little bit, mind. The men with guns pointed at her back still have her nervous.
They walk for maybe five minutes, weaving in and out of pipes and metal grating, before they finally stop at a door. Rose's eyes widen as they walk through it. The industrial smell and grit is replaced by a lofty, plush walkway fit for a five-star hotel. The carpets are of a deep red colour, the walls done up in tasteful shades of gold. Not exactly the sort of thing she'd been expecting when they'd been kidnapped. Dark cells and cots, maybe. For a moment she dares hope that whoever decided to beam them up to this ship is just doing so for the sake of being nice.
Mentally she kicks herself at that thought. Psh. Yeah right. If there's one thing she's learned from travelling with the Doctor it's that nobody ever captures you for nice reasons.
Perhaps unconsciously, the Doctor has grabbed her hand. She ducks her head and smiles a bit as they're led down the luxurious hall. It's not really the time or place for such thoughts, but god she loves it when he holds her hand.
"Stop here," a guard barks sternly. She and the Doctor obligingly halt before the large girt-metal doors in front of them. Through porthole-like windows she can just glimpse what looks like a high chandelier, suspended from a tiered ceiling. She wonders what kind of kidnapper lives in such plush surroundings.
She may get her answer quicker than she'd thought. After a brief signal to his compatriot, the main guard pushes in a series of numbers on a keypad and the doors pop open. The two of them are herded into a large ballroom before the door shuts again and a loud click signals that they've been locked in.
"Well then…" Rose starts, feeling a little confused over this whole turn of events. They were ambushed and captured just to be led into a ballroom?
Before she can say more, though, the Doctor quietly shushes her. He meets her eyes, shakes his head and points to a staircase leading up to a control deck in front of them.
She's about to try and ask what's up, but suddenly she sees it. Sees him, rather. A small boy is seated against the rungs on one of the stairs, eyes closed and breathing slowly as if asleep. Rose's heart breaks a little at the child's condition; plain shorts and an oversized, scuffed blue dress shirt make him look scrawnier than she hopes he really is. Freckles stand out on his pale face, framed by a shaggy fringe and head of unruly hair. Dark circles under his closed eyes suggest he hasn't slept in days.
He isn't even sleeping now, she sees. His young face is etched with worry, looking as if he's concentrating very hard on something.
A sidelong glance at her Doctor, meant to be a silent request for him to explain what this is all about, shows him to be watching to unmoving child with a sort of animalistic wariness. She's about to open her mouth and ask what's wrong, when the doors on the far side of the room suddenly slam open and make both of them jump.
"Doctor! Oh, look at you, you ruffian! All leather jackets and gruff face!" the man who's just entered is tall, clean-shaven and oddly attractive. Rose eyes him even as she draws instinctively closer to the Doctor as the man approaches.
A noise momentarily distracts her, and she turns her head to see that the young boy from earlier has woken from whatever trance he'd been in and has apparently fallen sideways off his step. He groans irritably as he sits up, grumbling something about always being woken up, before he catches sight of the Doctor and her. He freezes in place, staring at them in horror.
"W-what!" the boy stutters. He looks back and forth from the Doctor to the oddly-handsome stranger in a suit, looking both baffled and outraged. "What are you doing? Are you insane? She's already struggling to maintain one—"
The man laughs at the child and moves towards the stairs. The boy backs up another step but stops halfway up, looking behind him at the sixth step, before the besuited man deftly catches him up around the middle and lifts him by the armpits.
"Now, now, you hush. Don't want to ruin the mystery!" the man chuckles as his young captive tries to kick him in the stomach.
"Lemme go!" the boy yells. Rose steps forward, thinking she'll get the child out of danger, but is stopped by the Doctor's hand on her shoulder. She looks back to see her alien friend staring fixedly at the two strangers with a furious expression.
"What's the meaning of this? Who are you?" he asks angrily. Rose finds herself being gently maneuvered behind her Doctor as the stranger moves toward them. The boy in his arms seems to have accepted being carried but looks supremely irritated about it.
The man laughs again, tilting his head slightly to look down at the sullen boy's face.
"Leather jacket? Really?" the man asks, conversing as if she and the Doctor aren't even there, "I never pegged you as the biker type." Getting no response from the glowering boy, the man instead squints comically at the Doctor, "or, maybe, compensating for something? Hmm?"
"What the hell are you on about?" the Doctor demands, crossing his arms. He keeps his body safely between Rose and their enigmatic captor, a fact she finds both comforting and slightly stifling. For all his posturing and talk of stupid apes, the Doctor seems to spend a lot of time treating her like a fragile china doll.
"Seriously?" the man asks, looking both amused and slightly pitying. "Try lowering that giant lead block you call a mental shield, Doctor… oh, and think fast!"
The man suddenly tosses a very startled child at him, nearly catching the Doctor off-guard. Rose lunges forward but thankfully the Doctor manages to catch the boy with a surprised 'oof!'. He stumbles back as he supports the child in an awkward sort of bear-hug against his chest. The boy blinks up at him, and they stare at each other for maybe half a second, (the boy looking very uncomfortable to be basically smashed up against what Rose assumes to be a perfect stranger) when suddenly the Doctor lets go and drops him with a shocked gasp.
"Doctor!" Rose yells angrily. Thankfully the child doesn't seem to have been hurt by the fall.
The Doctor doesn't even seem to be aware of her. He's staring fixedly the dark-suited man, face pale as if seeing a ghost.
"Aha, figured it out finally?" the man says, his affable expression managing to be both patronizing and slightly terrifying. Rose crouches next to the startled boy on the floor, wordlessly checking to see if he's alright. For some reason the child refuses to look at her, despite her holding him in a half-hug as she tries to make sure he doesn't get scooped up again.
"You're supposed to be dead," the Doctor whispers. His face looks shell-shocked.
"Ah, yes! Bravo!" the man claps his hands a little in a mocking victory applause. Moving towards the Doctor his expression darkens, becoming almost a predatory leer. "Now, say my name."
"Master.." the Doctor says quietly.
"Hah, I like it when you say my name," the Master crows happily.
"But, you—everyone died! Everyone!" the Doctor suddenly exclaims. "I felt them!"
The Master's face darkens, a quiet anger that Rose finds deeply terrifying.
"So did I," he growls, "me, disguised as a human, stranded at the very end of time—and even then I couldn't escape. All those voices screaming, and then… nothing. Nothing at all but the drums." the Master begins drumming a four-beat tempo on the nearby railing of the staircase, his face ever darker, "it's too quiet, Doctor. I can't escape them anymore. Drumming, always, always drumming."
Tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap.
Rose feels the small child in her arms shift nervously. She looks down but can only see his fringe and part of a freckled nose. Still, she could swear he feels… guilty? Hopeless? A maelstrom of emotions that don't seem to be quite hers flow through her mind, and she draws away with a slight gasp. The boy startles as she pulls away, looking up at her for the first time with an apologetic expression.
"Sorry," he mutters quietly, dropping his eyes to the floor.
"You hid!" the Doctor exclaims angrily, Rose and the child's exchange apparently going unnoticed by the two Time Lords standing above them, "everyone, fighting for our very species' survival, and you just ran away!"
"Of course I did!" the Master replies, "I'm not a fool, unlike you. As soon as it was clear we were going to lose I fled as far away from Gallifrey as I could possibly get. I'm not going to die in some useless war I didn't even start. Though, I do admit I wasn't expecting you to come out of it. Of all people, Doctor!" the Master has continued to move closer as he talks, until he's standing right in front of her Doctor, looking into his eyes with a hungry look. "That one over there won't talk about it, but maybe you will. What did it feel like, Doctor? Killing them all…"
"Stop it," the Doctor growls.
"Bah!" the Master exclaims, his entire demeanour changing to that of almost comedic disappointment as he throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. "That's exactly what he said! It's like you've got the market cornered on boring."
Rose, slightly baffled at this point—'killing them all'? What does that mean?—gives the Doctor a quizzical look. He doesn't seem to notice her, which is disappointing, but she catches the boy glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. She leans down next to him, he still sitting rather morosely on the floor while she squats in a half-crouch a few feet away.
"You got any clue what the 'eck's goin' on?" she asks quietly, flashing a self-depreciating smile at the boy. Strange emotion-leaking or not, she feels bad for pulling away from him so suddenly earlier.
To her relief, he not only smiles back at her but finally looks at her. It's only for a second, though, as no sooner does he glance her direction than his eyes quickly move away to stare at the Master instead. She bites her lip slightly, wondering what she could have done in so short a time to make him avoid her gaze.
"It's a bit… complicated," the boy murmurs back, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.
"Yeah?" she asks.
"I'm sorry, did I somehow give you two permission to talk behind my back?" a voice cuts in, making both of them jump. The Master is standing above them, looking stern. Rose doesn't even need to look to know that her Doctor has tensed up, ready to attack should she become endangered. Getting over-protective again, she thinks. Still, she can't deny that it's comforting to know she has an ancient alien attack dog watching over her. It gives her the courage to stand up and look the Master in the eyes angrily.
"I'm sorry, did I say I needed permission from you ta do anythin'? Cos I sure as hell don't." The man's eyes, honey-brown and almost… mystifying.. are right on the verge of freaking her out. She holds her ground though, glaring right back into them even are her knees start to shake slightly. How long have they been staring at each other…? It can't have been more than a few seconds.. but it feels like so much longer…
"Stop it!" the Doctor's voice suddenly cuts in. Rose finds herself nearly collapsing as the Master is forcibly turned away from her by the Doctor. As she falls hard on her bum the boy scrambles to steady her, looking at each of her eyes as if checking for a concussion. She can't think of why, she hasn't hit her head or anything.
"Rose? Rose! You alright?" the boy asks anxiously, waving a hand in front of her face. Rose blinks, and suddenly it's as if the whole world has come back into focus. Her head feels a bit fuzzy, but she manages to nod, putting a hand to her forehead dizzily.
She's about to ask what happened, or why a staring contest seems to have fogged out half her mind, but the first thing out of her mouth is, "how do you know my name?"
The boy gives her a slightly exasperated look and carefully brushes a strand of hair out of her face.
"Silly ape," he says quietly. Rose's breath catches at the words. It must be her slightly-muddled imagination messing with her… because she could swear she's just seen the same ancient, powerful spark in his eyes that she always thought of as being uniquely 'Doctor'.
"Doctor…?" she asks uncertainly, even though it's a fairly stupid question since she knows the Doctor is standing right next to her, with blue eyes and a leather jacket—not brown ones and freckles.
Before the boy can answer he's pulled bodily away from her by the Master. She looks frantically behind him for her Doctor only to see him surrounded by floating silver spheres, each one fitted with an array of sharp knives. He's stock still, not risking being eviscerated but obviously furious over his inability to help her.
"You're just trouble no matter what body you're in, aren't you?" the Master snarls at the boy, and tosses him aside. He's immediately encircled by metal spheres as well. The Master advances on her.
"Rose!" the boy and the Doctor both call out, voices eerily similar. The Master rolls his eyes and picks her up by the wrists.
"Talk about obsessive."
Rose struggles to kick him or bite him or anything that will make him let go, but he keeps hold of her with inhuman strength. With Time Lord strength, she now understands. The last survivor of the Doctor's species, and he just has to be a crazy super-villain. Rose could cry for the unfairness of her friend's life.
Again, she finds herself looking into a set of mesmerizing honey-brown eyes, and knows no more.
#-#
The Doctor screams with fury as Rose collapses, the Master guiding her body to the floor with false care. More of those bloody spheres appear and he instructs them to have guards remove her prone body, to take her 'somewhere more comfortable.' The Doctor attempts to charge his old nemesis and is immediately stopped by a metal ball full of knives hovering mere inches from his face.
"Stop this, Koschei!" a young voice yells the words he himself had been just about to say. The Doctor tears his eyes away from the spinning blades in front of him to see the child who, paradoxically, is his future, older self, glaring at the Master venomously.
"And why should I?" Koschei asks petulantly.
"This paradox is big enough, you'll tear the universe to shreds! Please, just send them back to their timeline, let the Blinovich Effect take over—"
"Oh, shut up," the Master cuts the older/younger Doctor off by pressing a button on his screwdriver-esque weapon. The light on a small metal band around the boy's wrist flicks from green to red and suddenly the child is screaming in pain. The Doctor himself winces, both from the screams and the very real bond present between all of his selves; faint sensations of electricity make his body tingle painfully.
"For Time's sake, he's only a child!" the Doctor exclaims after a few seconds. In answer, the Master flips a switch on his device and the pain mercifully stops, leaving the miniaturized Doctor in an unconscious heap. At a wave of their Master's hand the metal spheres surrounding the boy teleport away.
"May have over-done it a bit." The Master strides over and pokes the Doctor's future self with an immaculately polished shoe. He squats down and inspects a steady drip of blood now falling from his victim's nose, caused by having hit the floor too hard. "All over the marble, honestly."
"What's happened to you!" the Doctor asks desperately. He's angry, confused, and more than a little scared. And admittedly this incarnation does not handle any of those emotions well. "You and I are the only ones left, how can you possibly condone—"
"I condone," the Master growls, standing up and rounding on the Doctor menacingly, "making the life of the destroyer of our species a living hell. A sentiment I think you would agree with, Doctor." The Master's dark features light up with an evil smirk, "Oh, I've seen the tapes. All the old records your TARDIS keeps. You had quite a period of self-destruction there, Thete. Enough that some might think you didn't want to live."
"I've changed," the Doctor says firmly. His arms are crossed in front of him and he refuses to acknowledge the habit for the barrier technique it is.
"You mean someone changed you. A blonde someone," the Master crows. The Doctor can't help but wonder when exactly his enemy's moods became so mercurial. It's not like him to be so unstable, not how he remembers the orderly Time Lord at all.
"So what if she did?" the Doctor growls. The mention of Rose brings his current worry of her to the forefront, but surrounded by death-spheres he can do nothing but cross his arms and gnash his teeth angrily.
"You're dependent on her, Doctor. I can show you, even," as he speaks, the Master draws out his screwdriver device and points it at a random wall. Instantly, a projection of a rather tall man in a suit hangs in the air before them. He looks ragged, worn, and is busily running around his TARDIS console muttering equations to himself. Every once in awhile he'll stop, pull at his mop of brown hair, and flip a few switches randomly. It's obvious that this lanky pretty-boy is the Doctor's next incarnation.
"You spent three straight months trying to find a way to get your precious little pet back," the Master explains, bemusedly watching the image of his enemy talk to himself, "completely futile, and yet you worked yourself insane. And then?" the Master flips a switch and the image changes, now a low-quality feed from a surveillance camera fills the wall. The Doctor can see the same tall, wild-haired version of himself partially obscured by rushing water and flames, a murderous expression on his freckled face. The Master smiles, "then you saw fit to murder an entire nest of infant Racnoss, wiping out the species entirely. Thought you were done with genocide, hmm?"
Before the Doctor can respond, the Master flicks off his screwdriver, killing the projection. The Time Lord waves his hand and the metal spheres surrounding the Doctor disappear. He doesn't move—not sure how to react to the revelation that he will soon lose Rose and subsequently go on a murderous rampage. He tries to keep his expression neutral.
"What are you trying to get at?" the Doctor asks, crossing his arms and glaring at his enemy. Now that the spheres have gone he's having to suppress his urge to jump the other Time Lord and strangle him. The only thing keeping him still is the fact that the Master now has both Rose and his older self at his mercy.
"Typical, Doctor, missing the point as usual!" the Master chides. He spins on his heel and walks right up to the Doctor, who leans away irritably. "You," he says, poking a finger at the Doctor's leather-clad chest, "are completely dependent on a human. I intend to break that dependence. This lout over here is hopeless." The Master jerks his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the small body still crumpled on the floor, "I'm sure you can tell who was in the immediate vicinity when he came into being."
"What are you going to do to Rose!" the Doctor growls, ignoring the jab at his inability to stop himself from picking up stray DNA during regeneration. It was less bother to do it that way, and he'd never really seen the point in spending his dying moments trying to come up with a nice eye colour or the particular wave of his hair.
"Oh, nothing much," the Master crows, "just break her a little, bend her to my will… remind you how useless and fragile your precious little apes are."
"Harm one hair on her head and I'll—"
The Doctor didn't get to finish his threat. The last thing he remembered was a brilliant red light shining in his face, and the thought that he really should have strangled the bastard when he had the chance.
