A/N: Look! Less than six years for an update! It's a miracle!

They were bastards. The lot of them. Not just these two, but time lords in general. No, people in general. Any kind of sentient being that I could direct my anger at right now. All of the above. Yes. Everyone, and everything, was a bastard.

But I was absolutely not freaking out right now. Cool and collected. Definitely not thinking about how Jack had warned me. His words weren't running through my mind over and over. Nope. Not kicking myself because of course the Professor betrayed me. He was a known bastard. He was a known evil bastard. Yet I'd still managed to delude myself into thinking there was something there.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Okay, keep it together. I was going to turn into some emotional wreck here in a minute if I wasn't careful. That definitely wouldn't help. Didn't get the feeling that either the Professor or Ailla were the types to give in to a sniveling, sobbing, red-faced, weepy girl. Especially since I was an ugly crier. Really, just awful, mouth hanging open, snot running-

It was bad. That's what I'm trying to get at.

But they weren't going to find that out, because I was holding this shit together. I took a deep breath and the voice interface turned. That familiar look of concern that the Doctor was constantly giving me was etched deep onto his face. I hated that there was an audience to my exceptionally humiliating demise, but at the same time, it was probably the only reason I was still holding it together. Gotta save face. Don't worry, you're about to die, but you don't want to look like an idiot doing it, so maintain. Atta girl.

It was also nice to know that at least one person in the room was in my corner. Well. One space ship. Or digital representation of a space ship. Something.

"I could go recite pi to them if you'd like. Not sure it'll slow them down much, but it is an option." He shrugged. I think the voice interface was trying to cheer me up. That was…actually kind of depressing all on its own.

"Don't bother." I cleared my throat, preparing my extra obnoxious voice to channel all of my panic and misery into. "The assholes probably wouldn't even notice. Because they're assholes. Assholes that kill people." Ailla flinched at my announcement, but the Professor didn't even move from his hunched over position above the computer.

That hadn't been my best effort. I'd have to up my name-calling game. I blame the lack of variety. "People who were supposed to be their friends. I'm talking to you jackass!" Even at full volume, I was about as distracting to the Professor as a rock.

"Don't worry," the voice interface said with a strained smile as he tried to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Which sort of just floated there instead of actually touching me. Not creepy at all. "My thief will be along shortly. He always is."

That was a nice idea, the whole 'being rescued by the plucky hero' bit. But then, that's what I thought would happen when the Professor had shown up and…well, he shit all over that.

"I won't hold my breath." If the Doctor had failed to notice the Professor was missing the whole time he'd been busy with our…dalliance, I was pretty sure he'd never notice. In fact, he was probably chatting away to himself about the fascinating world of protons or neutrons, or whatever the hell he was always rambling about, convinced the Professor was there listening. He had a tendency to do that sort of thing.

So waiting was out. Need a plan B. One that I'm capable of executing from my chair.

…

Okay, there was nothing I could do at this distance. Other than be loud. Neither of them had seemed too impressed with that. However, my feet weren't tied down. With a little experimenting, I found I could scoot around, two inches at a time. Checking to make sure the hushed grating across the floor hadn't alerted anyone, I began the incredibly slow process of spinning my chair.

As they worked, the gentle hum of the room grew louder, which wasn't particularly helping my nerves. After all, louder noise just means death is coming sooner, right? Confident that I was plenty stealthy, I started making my way toward the computers. My end game? Kicking the Professor square in the balls.

Unfortunately, he was further down the line than Ailla, so I'd have to settle with brutalizing her shins. But it was a plan. By the time I'd sidled up to the first computer, I was exhausted. One, because I wasn't used to carting my ass, and a huge god damn chair, on the power of my calves alone. And two, whatever they were doing in this room, it was exhausting. I could feel it turning my muscles to mush, and ratcheting my headache up to migraine territory. Everything in me wanted to just lay in the chair and let them get on with it. Only my spite for this room…and every living thing in the universe, kept me going. But when I started to move again, I saw the voice interface shaking his head quickly and making frantic motions with his hands.

Busted. Time to ready my legs for some serious kicking. But when I looked around, no one had spotted me. He was still flapping his arms around though, sort of making a smashing gesture to my right…Oh.

The computer. He wanted me to smash the computer.

Damn.

That was actually a good idea.

My plan was just based on annoyance; this one had a real possibility of helping. I scooted back to give my legs room to get up in the air, and then I started to flail, violently. As the first of many satisfying crunches landed on the panel, I could see Ailla rushing at me. I continued to kick even as she threw the chair back, causing me to fall backwards. That wasn't particularly comfortable, but me landing a few solid kicks on Ailla when she tried to catch me made up for my misery.

"Stars Fitz, this isn't a game!" She shouted as she pulled the chair back up, possibly to reduce the effectiveness of my deadly blows. Feel the kick, be the kick. I am one with the kick.

"Oh, so you were serious about killing me? Damn, guess I should start acting accordingly then." I rose my leg up again but she drove her fist into the top of my knee so hard it dropped like a lead weight. Sweet baby jesus that hurt. No longer channeling inner zen with the kicking. Sitting here calmly. That's what we're zenning right now. At least until I could stop making the 'ow' face.

"This isn't about you Fitz. This is about multiple species, an entire planet that you're saving. You'll be revered as a god Fitz. Your sacrifice will make you immortal amongst the time lords, can't you see how much greater that will be than living out your tiny insignificant life until you decay and die?"

"How about I stick my insignificant foot up your ass and I think about it?" It was nice to see that Ailla's fury was still buried somewhere beneath all this preachy bullshit she was trying to feed me. Her fist closed at her hip and I was pretty sure she was going to pop me right in the mouth but the Professor intervened.

"Ailla, there's no time." He snapped. Her eyes darted to his and back to me, seriously contemplating if it was worth losing her planet just to wipe the smug grin off my face. It was nice to finally have that effect on someone else. "I've completed the precipital alignment within the Matrix. You still need to ensure the coordinates are correct. There can be no mistakes." His tone implied that very very bad things would happen if there were any mistakes. You know, things worse than me dying. "I'll speak with her." He added in a calmer tone.

"Have to get your boyfriend to fight your battles for you? That's fine, I wouldn't want to have to mess up that pretty face of yours." I sneered at her and she lunged forward just as the Professor stepped between us.

"Finish this, or it will have been for nothing." He was busy staring her down with that intense angry gaze he did, but I was also making faces at her behind his back, so she was mildly conflicted. Unfortunately, the Professor decided for us, and he began to drag my chair back to its original position where the voice interface was looking sufficiently angry on my behalf. "You are acting like a child." The Professor said as he slammed my chair down, noting that I had continued to make rude faces at Ailla, even as she went back to work.

"Well, I've just been informed that I'm tiny and insignificant, especially when compared to the great and mighty time lords. So if you actually think about it, according to you, this is age appropriate." He didn't seem to appreciate my logic, which I thought was totally sound. He turned his attention to the voice interface that was hovering nearby, looking menacing despite the fact that he could do nothing.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" The Professor shot him a look.

"Yes, I imagine so. But as you've taken the liberty of severely compromising my capabilities, I've decided my remaining contribution could be making you miserable." He seemed quite satisfied with that, although I wasn't sure how well that would work since loud noises didn't seem to do much, and as far as I could tell, that was all he was good for. Other than, you know, moral support. Hooray.

"Might I suggest the life support, the library, or perhaps the secondary archived alert system," the Professor's jaw tightened as he spoke, apparently the voice interface was good at annoying. Go team "don't get Fitz killed"! Give him hell. "Or I could simply delete you." He said, with a hint of a smile.

"If you think you can threaten me little man-" Actually, I was a little afraid of the voice interface just then. The full fury of the Doctor, combined with the knowledge that it was actually a sentient space ship, had an incredibly intimidating effect. One that seemed lost on the Professor. "Hold on, did you say secondary archived…" The rage melted away to be replaced with confusion. He looked to me and opened his mouth, then shut it again. And then he vanished.

I sat up, what little of my good mood that had remained from the minor computer smashing victory, was now gone.

"Did you just delete the voice interface?" It sounded silly to get all worked up about a computer program, but dammit, that computer program had been my friend. Possibly, my only friend.

"Reset would probably be a better word for it," the Professor shrugged. "Now are you going to behave yourself, or are we going to need to find some better restraints?"

"Why don't you untie me and just let me get it out of my system. I'm sure you'll be fine." He would be too, if fine was actually code for having a chair jammed so far up your ass you cough splinters. Totally fine.

"Don't be so dramatic. I am sorry Fitzgerald, but this is-"

"Save it. If you need to kill me to restart some intergalactic space battle with your girlfriend, one that the Doctor gave up his own people to stop, go for it. But you don't get to feel any better about it because you 'apologized'. Not for one second. So spare me your 'sorry' fucker." To say I felt betrayed was a bit of an understatement.

"Don't be so naive," he shook his head, tightening his grip against my wrist. As he leaned forward, something flashed in his vest pocket, the tip of a screwdriver. My mind started to race as he continued with his stupid speech. "This isn't about a war, or your life. This is so much bigger. The time lords themselves are so much bigger. You think your precious Doctor is such a hero, can you imagine thousands of Doctor's?"

"How many people are going to die in this war you're starting? You know, not including me." His jaw tightened as he shot me a dark look.

"Not more than were lost when the Doctor condemned Gallifrey." Alright, he may have had a point there. Did that make them right? Was I the bad guy here? It really didn't seem like it, but then bad guys always seem to think they're in the right.

"But he did that for a reason. If you lose, it's not just the time lords that are affected. It's everywhere." Yeah. That made sense. Sure, I wasn't the bad guy, they were the bad guy. I was…mostly convinced.

"That's not going to happen." He said without any doubt. This guy had entirely too much confidence.

"Why, because you're going to storm in there with your band of psycho killers?" His eyes met mine, looking dangerous. Perfect. My fingers stretched out, just barely reaching the tip of the screwdriver. If I squirmed any further, he was going to notice. Dammit.

"Something like that."

"Well it's not going to work, you want to know why?"

"Oh please, enlighten me."

"Because you're a sickness. Everything you touch goes to hell. You're a bastard and you'll always be a bastard. And bastards lose." For a moment, he actually looked as though some of that had hit home. And then his face was a mask again, devoid of anything but scorn.

"Come now," he smirked, raising one hand to hold my chin. My skin was crawling, but my wrist was also free to reach that extra inch I needed to grab the screwdriver. "It wasn't all that bad, was it? I seem to recall us having a rather good time."

"Yeah well, that was a mistake. I've always had shit taste in guys. Probably should have learned my lesson last time."

"Last time…" his hand dropped as he searched my eyes. I would have gotten some joy out of him looking so confused, except I couldn't raise my wrist enough to get the god damn screwdriver out of his pocket. And as I didn't have any other plan, this was really my last shot.

"You use people. You did it before, and you're doing it now. That's just how you are. I was wrong to think you were different. But I'm not wrong for this." I reared back as far as the chair would allow and slammed my forehead into his nose with a satisfying crunch. He stumbled back and the screwdriver slipped out from his pocket. Success! Now, if I can just manage not to drop it like a dumbass, it'll be a Christmas miracle. Taking that extra moment to be sure of my grip, I slipped it between my wrist and the armrest.

That's when everything exploded.

I don't know if you know this, but head butting hurts. Not just a little, but like. A lot. I felt like I had just cleaved my head against an ax, which didn't help since I had already had a tremendous headache. At this point, killing me would have probably been a kindness.

I blinked furiously to keep my eyes from watering. No more head butting. That was definitely on my list. The blood that started to ooze, and then drip from the Professor's nose, offering me some satisfaction. So did the look of utter disbelief on his face. That smug grin of his probably wasn't coming back for a while. He reached up and frowned as he found his fingers coated in red.

"You're absurd." He said, looking at me again. Like it was such a shocker that I wanted to break his nose. Hell, I'd been meaning to do that for months.

"Koschei?" Ailla's voice was fraught with concern and I saw her walk toward us.

"It's fine," he said facing her. Her eyes widened as she saw the blood spilling down his chin.

"Oh my- Are you hurt?" Before she could come any further, he spun around, the back of his hand flying at my face. I was too startled to react, but all I felt was air as his hand whistled by. Did he miss? Did that stupid asshole miss when I was tied down to a chair? What a dumb-

No. He couldn't have, because now the chair was tipping, falling backward. Was this like the head butting where I didn't immediately feel the pain? It couldn't be, because I had felt nothing. Did he hit me so hard my face straight up broke? Am I having a seizure? I didn't have much time to ponder because then the back of my chair hit the floor and knocked the wind out of me. And hurt.

"Koschei, don't…" Ailla sounded like she felt bad. Like maybe she didn't really want to hurt me. Just make me dead. Great. She wasn't getting any extra credit for that.

"She won't be disrupting us anymore." He said over his shoulder. "Have you finished?" I could just see Ailla from where I was parked like a turtle. She shook her head. "Then get back to work." He snapped. She flinched at his voice and hesitated only a moment before turning back to her computer. At least he wasn't coddling her any more than he was me, that was something. As I regained the ability to breathe, I noticed my arms were hanging slack in the leather straps. My heart leapt in my chest. Finally, a lucky break. First a weapon, and now freedom. It was like my whole lifetime of shitty luck was finally paying me back all at once. The Professor hunched over me and I snapped to attention, trying to hold my arms as rigid as possible. Praying to every god I'd ever heard of, and Beyonce, that he hadn't noticed how they had been dangling a moment before.

"Back for another?" I grinned up at him. Of course, not only was I not at an angle where I could make good on that threat. My skull wasn't even remotely up for it.

"Don't do anything foolish." He said in a low voice.

"Like what?" He didn't know that I'd gotten his screwdriver, did he? Oh Christ, did he notice? Shit shit shit. He so noticed. Doomed. Doomed.

No, stop being crazy. He can't kill you twice. He'd just take it back if he'd seen it. Don't panic. Hold your shit together. Just put up with his little rant. You did just kick his ass. He just wants to puff out his feathers and prove he's still the prettiest peacock in the land.

"Listen to me," he growled, grabbing one of my arms again and squeezing. Shit. Shit. He knew. "Don't do anything until the Doctor arrives."

I blinked, trying to match the words with the angry face that was looming above me. Nope. Didn't make sense. Maybe he had hit me so hard that my brain just wasn't properly functioning any more. Jesus. Did I just have a stroke? Is this because I smoked that one time? Twice? Okay, more than twice. Ten times. Dammit.

"Wait." He said in a strained voice. "Please." He said the last part so quietly I wasn't sure I'd really heard it. Well, I wasn't sure I'd heard any of it, because it sounded like I was imagining things. Was the Professor helping me? No. That was ridiculous. He was helping kill me. That was the plan. They had told me that. That was definitely what was happening.

My eyes trailed down to the leather straps that had held my wrists so tightly to the chair. They hadn't just stretched out, someone had unfastened and refastened them so I could get out of them.

"Do you understand?" He asked in a vicious voice while he gripped my chin, forcing me to look up. His face was the image of pure fury, and yet his cool blue eyes held some desperation in them. "Do you understand?" He shook me once. I really really didn't. But I nodded anyway. "Good." He stood up, emotionless once again.

"Professor, are you-"

"She won't disrupt us again." He said curtly. I liked that she was back to calling him the Professor, because that meant she was probably afraid of him again. That brought me happiness because I was a twisted individual. Was I afraid of him? That was…well…I had no idea.

"Well it shouldn't matter. It's ready." Definitely afraid of dying, that much was clear as my blood chilled at her announcement. This was it, time to die. Wasn't that a cheering thought. But I had a weapon now, and I could escape. So what was I waiting for?

…

Really? All it took was him saying 'please' and suddenly I'm more than happy to listen? Really? Jabbering nonsense about the Doctor making an appearance sounded a lot more like what I hoped would happen, and a lot less like something that would actually happen. Why would he suddenly show up? But why would the Professor imply he would? What the hell was going on?

It occurred to me that my plan was to sort of shoot in their general direction and make a run for it. Would the door open for me if I did that? Probably not. And then what? Wait until Ailla shot me badly enough that I couldn't run away any more? I didn't trust him, and I sure as hell wasn't happy with him. But I would wait. Mostly because I hoped his plan, whatever it was, was better than mine.

"Fitz, I truly am sorry-" Ailla said as she turned toward the computer.

"No you're not." I chimed in a sing-songy voice, but it didn't do much. She sighed before continuing on.

"But this is going to hurt."

I had only just registered the words when the pain ripped through me so hard that I forgot how to breathe. It started in my chest and radiated out, pulse after pulse of hot knives cutting through skin and bone. And then suddenly it was gone. The memory of it still echoed through me as a white bolt of light shot out from the pedestal where the pocket watch had been and smashed into the wall. The wall rippled and then began to tear open, the room filled with a roaring wind as the portal was opened.

The beam vanished and I let out a groan, finally having the breath to verbalize how fucking painful that had been. And anyway, shouldn't I be dead? I mean, not that I was actually complaining, but I thought that was the whole point. I blinked slowly, registering that there was now light streaming out from the wall. Was this it? The end? Was it the bright light? Should I get up and walk toward it? That seemed like entirely too much effort just then and everything hurt so badly that I decided if death was coming for me, he could help a girl out, get off his ass, and bring his life ending light over here. But when my eyes adjusted, I realized it wasn't really a light. It was a familiar landscape that I was seeing through the portal. The radiant orange and reds of Gallifrey, coupled with the smell of burning that billowed in through the open doorway between ship and war torn planet.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head and wanting to crawl as far away from the light as possible. "Not there."