Disclaimer:
Being the property of their respective copyright holders, Doctor Who in any incarnation, its characters or any other publicly recognizable names don't belong to me in any way, shape or form. This was written for the sole purpose of entertainment, not monetary gain. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N:
Muchísimas gracias to my awesome twin sister Twinchy for the beta!

This story is dedicated to the memory of Richard Franklin, who passed away on Christmas Day 2023 and would have turned 88 today. May he rest easy in the knowledge that his kindness and dedication have brought great joy and inspiration to generations of viewers and audience members!

Summary:
There is a defining moment in every soldier's life; something they would always be remembered by. Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart never expected this legacy to be one of betrayal for any of his men, least of all Captain Mike Yates.

Setting: missing scene/episode tag set during and immediately following the events of 11.10 'Invasion of the Dinosaurs'

Trigger Warning: Allusions to possible Self-Harm

Dismissal

Fall from Grace

'
Any scientist Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart ever met would insist that time was linear and entirely unsympathetic in its steady progress. Any individual, however, who spent any length of time with UNIT's scientific advisor, the Doctor, could attest to the growing suspicion that time was just as partial to the goings-on as it was invested in their inevitable outcome.

At the moment, time seemed to be waiting with baited breath while Captain Mike Yates, in a desperate attempt to thwart the failure of Operation Golden Age, held his comrades, his friends at gun-point, speaking calmly about what essentially amounted to nothing short of genocide. The Doctor did an admirable job of trying to talk him down and appeal to his conscience but nothing appeared to penetrate the walls of apathy around the captain's mind. Whatever madness had befallen the man to become involved in the despicable plans to roll back time and in the process practically wipe out all of mankind, at least he wasn't volatile in his endeavour to keep the small group surrounding the Doctor from interfering.

The uneasy stalemate shattered in unison with the delicate china as their forgotten tea's unexpected arrival provided a much-needed distraction to safely take action; a concept far better suited to the experienced commanding officer's heart than any negotiation tactics. To Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart's utmost relief, the struggle between Sergeant Benton and Captain Yates was thankfully brief and ended before it even began. After the sergeant, in a surprise attack, had kicked the offending pistol out of the officer's hand, their wayward captain did not fight back at all and was quickly subdued. He remained impassive in Benton's choke hold, stock still, not moving a single muscle, showing no inclination to inflicting actual violence upon his friends.

In these trying times, with live dinosaurs appearing in central London and facing opposition everywhere he looked, Mike Yates' immediate surrender presented a welcome mercy the brigadier was eternally grateful for. Despite being utterly disappointed in the man he had trusted, they all had trusted with their lives, he did not in fact wish any harm to come to his second in command.

"Sir," the recently arrived bewildered soldier, not being able to make heads nor tales of what he had witnessed, handed Yates' weapon over to his CO before busying himself with clearing away the pieces of fallen porcelain dishes.

With a stern expression Lethbridge-Stewart trained the pistol at Mike Yates and motioned for Benton to release him.

"Captain Yates, you are under arrest." The brigadier's voice echoed through the small room with barely contained anger at the betrayal.

Carefully cultivating a placid demeanour in order to telegraph his willingness to cooperate and preserve a shred of honour, the disgraced captain pulled himself to his full height, standing ramrod-straight and nodded minutely. Yet, he could not bring himself to make eye contact with his superior for fear of what he might find in the withering glare burning a hole through his soul.

"Sergeant Benton, please escort the captain to the provisional holding cell."

"Sir!" Benton confirmed sharply, accepting the offered weapon from his commanding officer's hand.

Yates in the lead and setting off at a purposeful stride that belied his otherwise forlorn behaviour, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart's face softened fractionally as he caught his sergeant's eye with a meaningful look, momentarily stopping the latter in his tracks.

"Make sure he does not do anything stupid," the brigadier warned ominously, concern colouring his words.

Benton nodded mutely, understanding full well his CO's disquiet. The Doctor followed the exchange sadly but did not interfere nor offer his thoughts on the disciplinary matter.

Mike Yates had always prided himself on having a good rapport with his fellow soldiers, John Benton in particular. Unsurprisingly, as he was briskly marched down the abandoned corridor, the usual camaraderie, which used to come so easy between them, was replaced with an icy silence that threatened to suffocate him, its frosty tendrils chilling him to the core.

All too soon they came to a stop at the tiny room serving as a makeshift brig. Stoic expression firmly in place and not betraying any emotion, Benton opened the sturdy door and signalled for him to enter first. Most of the available space in the small, windowless chamber was taken up by a wooden stool and narrow cot. Just when Mike was about to make his way over to the less than inviting bunk, the other man drew his attention.

"Captain Yates, I must ask you to please remove your belt and jacket, Sir."

Momentarily shaken from his stupor, the troubled captain could not suppress a questioning look directed at the eyes he so far had studiously tried to avoid. The curiosity of this request was almost enough to distract him from the formal tone and address sending painful spikes through his heart. Even so, he gave a curt nod and acquiesced, carefully folding the items onto the nearby stool.

"Now your tie, Sir." The habitually self-confident sergeant looked slightly uncomfortable but pressed on regardless, "… and braces."

Realization suddenly dawned on Mike at the piecemeal delivery coupled with the awkward tension filling the room, so he expected the final item before it was named.

"And your shoes, Sir," Benton added with a purposefully schooled expression.

Not bothering with opening the laces, Yates toed off his dress shoes after dutifully loosening his tie and shrugging out of his braces, then arranged everything neatly on and below the piece of furniture. Upon receiving the go-ahead with a meaningful look at the cot, he padded over to the indicated spot and sat down heavily.

With his prisoner at a safe distance, Sergeant Benton first closed the door, then warily put the pistol away and produced a pair of handcuffs. Fully accepting responsibility for being the cause of the shattered trust between them and understanding the need for caution on the other's part, Mike consciously let any sign of resistance melt from his posture and attempted to appear as non-threatening as possible while desperately trying to hide the sting gradually intensifying behind his eyes.

Despite overtly projecting the well-founded belief in his ability to keep the upper hand if a fight should ensue, the broad-shouldered sergeant approached his disgraced superior guardedly. By unspoken permission, he decisively cuffed the nearest wrist to the head of the bed frame and, looking straight ahead, left without another word. The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding clang.

With no need to keep it together any longer, Mike let the façade of indifference slip and closed his eyes against the shame rising in his cheeks. Reluctantly opening his eyes again, he observed with some measure of amusement that, if he put his mind to it, he would be able to reach his discarded uniform items across the room without much difficulty; the cot was not bolted to the floor.

This insubstantial half-thought bounced off the walls of his conscience and died along with the fleeting spark of spiritedness as Mike's shoulders sagged in defeat and with a deep sigh resigned himself to his fate, whatever that may be. They need not worry. He felt too numb to do anything dishonourable.