FIC: Hell to Be Paid (Doctor Who)
Title: Hell to Be Paid
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character(s): The Master, the Doctor
Summary: For At my signal, unleash hell. -The Gladiator @justprompts
Word Count: 499
Notes: AU Post-LotTL. It's several years after.
Hell to Be Paid
It wasn’t a situation he would have seen himself in, not with how the Doctor was so anti-soldier and guns and all that sort of mess he kept his hands clean of. Hardly a problem for the Master; a bit of blood, killing, no problem. Let him loose and he could even have some fun! Some creativity!
The Doctor looks ill and he rolls his eyes and sighs. “You take out all the enjoyment in these things,” he tells the other, and grabs the back of his jacket and drags him to his feet. “I won’t rush back to Earth and tattle on all your precious little human companions that you involved yourself in a bloodbath. I promise!”
The Doctor just gives him a dull look.
“Fine. Stay out of my way, then.” He pushes past him. He had to check on their resources, and make sure all the little ants are in line. Can’t have a battle with scared soldiers.
“Master we - you… don’t have to do this.”
“… You honestly think I would say no?” he asked the other with a laugh. Did he forget who he was talking to? “Sure, it is the Shadow Proclamation and all asking, which makes it a mite bit irritating, but you’ve kept me under lock and key for so long, Doctor, one needs a good bit of murder.” He relishes in the pained face the Doctor makes when he says it. “And besides,” he adds after a moment’s thought, “you can’t forget that they’ve confiscated the TARDIS.”
“We can get it back. Avoid the battle. In and out again.”
“No. Buck up. Live with it.” He turns back towards the Doctor and stalks towards him. “I don’t care how much you try to cover up your true self, how many hundreds of years you’ve hoped you’ve taken. You’re a soldier at the very inner of your being. A Time Lord who grew up most during confinement or war. Don’t ignore it, embrace it.” He slams the other, hard, into the nearby wall. If only that would help get what he’s saying through the Doctor. “There’s something more important than the TARDIS at stake here. Something your body should naturally be screaming at to fix. Can’t you feel it?”
“Yes,” the Doctor whispers. He doesn’t want to admit that it’s there. Neither of them truly want to; the threads holding together the fabric of time are stretching apart, threatening to tear. It’s tugging at every fiber of themselves, an aching, desperate need to fix it before there’s nothing left.
The Master taps on the others shoulder. To battle they go. He draws away. “This is necessity,” he says. “Stay out of the way unless you plan on bucking up and helping.” He stalks off and leaves the other there, intent on finding the Shadow Architect, raising his head up a notch when he does. No matter her status, he’s the superior one here. “At my signal,” he growls lowly, “unleash hell.”
x-posted to his journal - likely will only x-post my favs, lol
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character(s): The Master, the Doctor
Summary: For At my signal, unleash hell. -The Gladiator @justprompts
Word Count: 499
Notes: AU Post-LotTL. It's several years after.
Hell to Be Paid
It wasn’t a situation he would have seen himself in, not with how the Doctor was so anti-soldier and guns and all that sort of mess he kept his hands clean of. Hardly a problem for the Master; a bit of blood, killing, no problem. Let him loose and he could even have some fun! Some creativity!
The Doctor looks ill and he rolls his eyes and sighs. “You take out all the enjoyment in these things,” he tells the other, and grabs the back of his jacket and drags him to his feet. “I won’t rush back to Earth and tattle on all your precious little human companions that you involved yourself in a bloodbath. I promise!”
The Doctor just gives him a dull look.
“Fine. Stay out of my way, then.” He pushes past him. He had to check on their resources, and make sure all the little ants are in line. Can’t have a battle with scared soldiers.
“Master we - you… don’t have to do this.”
“… You honestly think I would say no?” he asked the other with a laugh. Did he forget who he was talking to? “Sure, it is the Shadow Proclamation and all asking, which makes it a mite bit irritating, but you’ve kept me under lock and key for so long, Doctor, one needs a good bit of murder.” He relishes in the pained face the Doctor makes when he says it. “And besides,” he adds after a moment’s thought, “you can’t forget that they’ve confiscated the TARDIS.”
“We can get it back. Avoid the battle. In and out again.”
“No. Buck up. Live with it.” He turns back towards the Doctor and stalks towards him. “I don’t care how much you try to cover up your true self, how many hundreds of years you’ve hoped you’ve taken. You’re a soldier at the very inner of your being. A Time Lord who grew up most during confinement or war. Don’t ignore it, embrace it.” He slams the other, hard, into the nearby wall. If only that would help get what he’s saying through the Doctor. “There’s something more important than the TARDIS at stake here. Something your body should naturally be screaming at to fix. Can’t you feel it?”
“Yes,” the Doctor whispers. He doesn’t want to admit that it’s there. Neither of them truly want to; the threads holding together the fabric of time are stretching apart, threatening to tear. It’s tugging at every fiber of themselves, an aching, desperate need to fix it before there’s nothing left.
The Master taps on the others shoulder. To battle they go. He draws away. “This is necessity,” he says. “Stay out of the way unless you plan on bucking up and helping.” He stalks off and leaves the other there, intent on finding the Shadow Architect, raising his head up a notch when he does. No matter her status, he’s the superior one here. “At my signal,” he growls lowly, “unleash hell.”
x-posted to his journal - likely will only x-post my favs, lol