((Private to Una and the Master. The night after
the Great Debacle -- not the night of, the night of the following day. Stupid imprecise language. I'm sure the Time Lords have some very elegant word for it.))
It was probably midnight. Maybe sometime past. And Una Persson was skulking about the park, too restless and anxious to sleep. She was walking near the lake, off the path and among the trees, somewhere near the area that backed up to Toon Town.
She probably looked like hell, she thought. Pale and tired, the hideous bruise on her left cheekbone, dark circles under her eyes; the only reason they weren't red from crying was that she'd done a very good job of forcing herself not to.
It was shame, mostly. For having lost control, for having crumbled so easily. Oh, the reasons were obvious, of course: the shock of seeing Doctor transformed so brutally, her ongoing discomfort at deceiving him, and the tension in the console room and the library stretching her nerves to breaking -- of course she'd snapped. Didn't make it any less humiliating.
Add to that the humiliation of leaving like a beaten dog with her tail between her legs. Leaving them together, the one to torment the other, who would simply take it with that sad, brilliant smile. It was clear where she stood, and it wasn't there.
How could he do it? How could he stand to be treated like that, over and over again, beaten down and getting back up, like he didn't have a choice?
Maybe he didn't.
And she'd never really understand why. That much was obvious.
She stopped in front of a tree and her hands curled into fists. She wanted to start hitting the thing, striking it over and over until she bled, until the bandaged wound on her left hand split open again, until she'd beaten her own fingers to pulp --
Which would accomplish absolutely nothing, of course. She turned and leaned against the tree, arms folded, staring into space.
((Angst-o-rama ahoy! With two characters who are apparently pathologically incapable of appearing in a scene together without generating at least one warning. >.< I assure you that the muns get along great; ironically, there wouldn't be this much character agony if we didn't.))
((ETA: Standard adult-content warnings and ratings apply. How did I think for a second that they might not, I ask you. >.<))
((The ETA Supremacy: *headdesk* And now they're bringing the scary. THEY ARE INCORRIGIBLE I TELL YOU.))
((The ETA Ultimatum: *facedesk* Seriously dark, psychologically twisted stuff going on here. If, say, David Cronenberg's Crash freaked you out, turn back now. I'm not kidding. IT'S ALL THEIR FAULT, WE SWEAR.))