Fic: You Made Me This Way
Title: You Made Me This Way
Prompt: #43 You broke the boy in me, but you won't break the man from
set2music
Characters/Pairing: Theta/Koschei, Ten/Master
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: Koschei and the Master are two very different people.
Prompt List
Theta was gone.
His stupid, wonderful, selfish, beautiful Theta was gone. And now Koschei was alone once more.
All those years, all the good times, all the terrible times; they’d been through them all - together. And now Koschei’s friend (partner, lover, lifeline) had disappeared, taking Koschei’s life with him.
Koschei scowled at the cliché and kicked the large wooden chest where he and Theta kept all their personal belongings.
Just his now.
Unbolting it, Koschei threw it open with enough force to dent the wall. He pulled out his belongings, his creased ceremonial robes that he had worn not that long ago to the graduation ceremony. He thought back to Theta pulling on his skullcap, and no matter how hard he tried, his unruly and overly-long hair would simply not fit inside.
Before today that would have brought a smile to his lips. But today he was too angry, too jealous, too hurt.
“We’ll travel across the stars together, you and me, Koschei, wherever we want to go.”
Koschei snorted at the memory, threw the robes away from him, digging deeper into the chest. Out came numerous contraptions they had built together, started but never finished. Theta, with his short attention span, always got bored after a few days, and moved onto something else.
When Koschei complained, Theta had always replied that they would complete them one day, but why stay tied down to one thing when he had so many other ideas?
Why stay tied down to one planet when there were so many others out there?
Why didn’t you take me with you?
His hands were shaking, he noticed, so he slammed the device down on the floor, shattering the glass part of it.
Now he could blame the shaking of his hand on the deep cut between his thumb and forefinger.
Ignoring the sting of his hand, Koschei continued to pull things out of the chest.
Theta’s school books. Tattered and dog-eared, with doodles in every margin, drawings in the front and back, squares of paper ripped out to scribble notes to Koschei during particularly boring classes. Koschei gripped the book tightly, blinking rapidly before placing the books, slowly, carefully, on the floor, hands still shaking.
He stared at a point on the wall, his breathing shuddering more than usual, his eyes a little more wide.
With a cry of anger and grief, Koschei hurled the books across the room, watching as they hit the opposite wall and dropped to the floor, the pages folded and creased.
Koschei looked down into the chest, shifted a few things round so he could get a better look.
More books, Theta’s own collection. Books that had been collected over the years, from and about different planets. Alien books, well-thumbed, their spines torn, but had none of the graffiti of his school books. Theta loved these books, treasured them. Surely he wouldn’t leave them here?
For the first time since he had heard of his friend’s departure, Koschei smiled. Theta would never willingly leave his beloved books behind (he’d thought he’d never leave him behind). Absent-minded as he was, Theta would have been so preoccupied with stealing the TARDIS, he would have forgotten everything else.
Theta would come back.
With that thought in mind, Koschei climbed onto the bed, sat cross-legged at the end of it, and folded his arms.
Theta would return. He had to.
Koschei sat for hours, staring blankly at the wall, not seeing anything but Theta in his mind’s eye. Almost as though he was wishing him into existence.
“Any minute now,” he said quietly, his voice sounding loud in the silent room. A moment later he suddenly felt stupid, talking to an empty room - that was Theta’s trick, not his. He didn’t do that sort of thing. Koschei didn’t talk unless there was someone to talk to, someone to listen, someone to understand.
And Theta would be that person, as soon as he came back. As soon as he came to his senses and took Koschei with him.
Time passed, as it did. And Koschei was aware of every passing second.
Soon, he’ll return soon.
Outside, the light was beginning to fade. The light of the second sun cast a soft yellow glow on the wall Koschei was facing. But he didn’t notice, he was too busy preparing what he was going to say to Theta when he returned. He’d be cross with him, obviously, but he’d forgive him soon enough, let him know that he still loved him, was still there for him, however much Theta hurt him.
As the second sun finally slipped below the horizon, the room was cast into darkness. But Koschei didn’t bother, didn’t even notice.
He’ll come back.
He had to.
Koschei didn’t know how long he sat there for. It could have been hours, days, weeks. But he knew that it was a very long time before he finally admitted it:
Theta wasn’t coming back.
For the first time in hours, Koschei moved his head, his neck stiff. He looked down at his lap, blinking slowly.
Theta wasn’t coming back.
Theta had gone, and left behind the only person in the Universe who truly cared for him, the person he had shared his childhood with, the person he had given himself to completely.
Theta wasn’t coming back.
As the realisation finally began to sink in, Koschei became more aware of his surroundings. More aware of the cold (no Theta to hold at night), of the ache in his legs and neck, of the feeling of complete desolation (it had never been this strong, not while Theta was there to make it better).
He moved slowly, awkwardly. Too distant to notice where he was treading, gripping the bedpost as he stumbled, and walking, in a daze, across the room.
He went down to the stores, where the TARDISes were kept.
If Theta wasn’t coming back, then Koschei would have to find him.
-
“It’s all your fault.” Weary eyes looked up at him and the Master smiled imperiously.
“What is?” the Doctor asked. He sounded tired. Good, maybe now he’d stay still long enough for the Master to understand him.
“You made me what I am today,” the Master said calmly, his eyes not leaving the Doctor’s face. “It wasn’t the drums - they are merely an interesting distraction. No, I became the Master the day you left me. The day you abandoned me with no explanation, not even a goodbye.”
“You saw me again, soon enough,” the Doctor pointed out, and the Master narrowed his eyes.
“I thought I would never see you again,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “I tortured myself for years on end wondering what it was I’d supposed to have done.” He paused, for once not seeing the Doctor before him, only his past pain. “Why did you do it? Why did you let me get so close to you, so attached, practically a part of you, then leave with no warning?”
The Doctor said nothing, just looked up at the Master, with something akin to guilt and sorrow in his eyes. Strangely enough, it was that that snapped the Master back to his senses. He laughed (not hysterically, never hysterically) and stood up, brushing down his suit.
“Forget it, I don’t want to know. Whatever your reasons were, I no longer have any interest in them. I’m not the man I was.”
Because when he became the Master, it was not only a different name he took on, but a shield - a defence against his one weakness. He was no longer love-struck Koschei; he was the Master, separate, unfeeling, and never ever worshipful of anyone.
He had no intention of going back to the agony of being so madly in love with someone, the pain of caring too much.
At least, he wouldn’t show it on the outside.