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Title: And You Will Catch Me If I Fall.
Summary: They never thought that they'd grow apart. A character study of both Theta (the Doctor) and Koschei (the Master), past and present, more playing around in the Nine-in-Ten's-era 'verse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Rusty writing skills, angst, my attempts to delve a bit into Time Lord history, culture, what-have-you. Also, I think I've realized I spelled "Toclafane" wrong a bunch of times previously without realizing, so if there's a sudden spelling change... (I'm sorry. I'm not usually that bad at spelling characters' names. I'm sorry)
Prompt: Combat Scenarios.
Author's Notes: Title, again, comes from "Storm" by Lifehouse. Call me crazy. XD
It's a typical night in the House of Oakdown. Though Koschei's life is more of a life of duty, his father more than respects and allows his friendship with Theta Sigma. Which Koschei is glad of -- more than glad of, really. Theta is considered a bit of an oddity on Gallifrey, thanks to some of his more...un-Time-Lord-like tendencies, for lack of a better word. He's nothing like the rest of us, some say, but if anything, that's one reason that Koschei likes him. There is something about Theta, about this unconventional, rather brash, restless, adventurous young boy, that he finds...quite endearing. If anything, Theta's allowed Koschei to relax, if slightly.
He doesn't lose sight of his duty, or making his father proud. He can't bear the mere thought of disappointing his father. But at the same time, it's not as prevalent as it used to be -- at least, the almost persistent fear of failure seems to niggle at him less.
It's long after they've spent some time romping in the red fields near Mount Perdition, one of their favorite places -- playing soldiers vs. Sontarans. Even now, remembering their session, Koschei can't help but chuckle, if slightly -- only Theta, really, would think of the Sontarans using dinosaurs to try and defeat them. Koschei has never really heard of the monsters called dinosaurs except for Theta's stories. Theta is simply...odd that way.
That and it helps from what he's read up on Earth culture. In between that and his mother's stories, Theta is quite curious about Earth culture. And from what he's hearing, Koschei's wondering if maybe he may become just as curious as well.
Koschei sighs and goes back to studying for his latest test on Gallifreyan history and economics. He can't risk failing. Otherwise, his father would be less than happy -- and that would be an understatement. It didn't help that noise in his mind, that constant tapping sound, almost like a drum: onetwothreeFOUR, onetwothreeFOUR...
He had tried to tune it out through sheer willpower. He can't say he succeeded.
He's glad when Theta comes back, dressed in blue sleepwear -- the younger, slightly cockier Time Lord child sits beside him, his brow furrowing in concern even as Koschei rubs his head, the drumming sound never seeming to simply leave...
"Koschei? Are you okay?"
"Oh. Nothing." Koschei tries his best to deflate his friend's concern; if there's anything he doesn't want for Theta, it's for him to worry. "Just...just a bit of a -- "
"It's that noise again, isn't it?" Theta's voice is sympathetic.
"I'm okay, Theta," he says, "Honest." A beat. "Any chance you want to study with me? We could help one another out a bit."
Theta grins. "All right! Where do we begin?"
Even now, helping Theta review some of the finer points of Gallifreyan history and creation, for a moment, the drumming sound in Koschei's mind seems to quiet, if slightly. At the very least, he's sufficiently distracted by helping Theta -- there's something relaxing about Theta's presence, something calming. Over time, Koschei's managed to relax a bit, joke a little more -- it helps that his father's also managed to relax a bit, but he thinks Theta's presence has helped the most.
He just wishes he could find a way for the noise to stop.
***
It's the moment that he sees these creatures kill President Winters that the Doctor moves out of hiding. He knows that it's the wrong thing to do, that it's the last thing that he wants to do, and he can hear Rose and the others whispering to him to stop
what are you doing?
but it doesn't matter. The old anger is welling up in him, the old anger, the shock, the disbelief when the kindly Professor Yana was revealed to be the Master. The old anger the Master was practically feeding off of
he could still remember the Master's sigh, almost as if the Doctor's anger was something he couldn't get enough of. the way he described the destruction of Daleks and Time Lords alike as if it were a work of sheer art
that led him to start running towards the Master, towards Harold Saxon --
-- only to be felled by some sort of laser-like thing that sends jolts through his whole body. He falls to the ground, feeling almost like he did when he had to take the gamma radiation into his body atop the Empire State Building -- pain coursing through his body.
The Master stands over him, grinning smugly. "We meet at last, Doctor." He laughs. "I love saying that!"
And even now, looking up into the face of the man who had been one of his dearest friends back on Gallifrey (and one of his oldest enemies), the Doctor cannot help but feel almost sick.
"That," the Doctor manages to grit out, "Is obvious." Even now, getting up is difficult -- everything seems to ache. "I'm not here to fight you, Master -- but I will if I have no choice."
Murmurings in the crowd, no doubt of confusion -- no doubt wondering why he's calling the Prime Minister "the Master". Or at least how he knows the Master. Or wondering, at least, why Public Enemy #1 has taken this opportunity to reveal himself.
"I should have expected that, Doctor."
There's a hint of bitterness in the Master's voice -- a hint of amusement, a hint of scorn. Almost as if wondering why the Doctor, in the name of all that is holy, is trying this tactic on him.
"And, oh, look! You brought the girlie and the freak with you, though I don't know which is which." The Master's looking towards Martha and Jack even as he speaks, which only rekindles the Doctor's anger. It only spikes after the Master aims the device he used on the Doctor earlier -- no doubt on a stronger setting -- in Jack's direction.
"Jack, get out of the w -- "
Evidently, it's not fast enough. Jack falls to the ground.
"Laser screwdriver." The Master sounds so irritatingly smug that the Doctor has to barely resist the urge to just, for lack of a better word, wipe that smirk off the Master's face. "Who would have thought to use sonic? And the best part is, he's not dead long -- I get to kill him again!"
That does it. The Doctor doesn't so much as go in for the kill as much as practically pounces -- he doesn't know how long it is before one of the guards the Master has manages to pull him off. Glaring at the Master, bruises still forming on his face no doubt, the Doctor only manages to get some solace in that he managed to at least go down swinging, so to speak, but even that is very feeble solace in contrast to the defeat and humiliation now boiling up in him.
I let him provoke me. What kind of Time Lord am I?
"Are you all right?" Rose is now at his side, and something about her presence seems to calm him -- at least somewhat. At the very least, it's comforting to know that she's here. And Martha as well.
"I am, Rose. I just..." He groans, rubs his temples. "I am such an idiot."
The worst part is that he already has a feeling that this isn't the end -- not by a long shot. There will be plenty more things to come. He can hear the Toclafane practically fussing over the Master, begging to kill the Doctor, and the Doctor prepares to defend himself. Or if he can't, face his doom.
But he can't die. Not here, when he has to protect Rose and the others.
Eventually, the Master seems to calm them down, at least somewhat -- even watching, the Doctor can't help but be somewhat bewildered. The Master may have been somewhat -- emphasis on the somewhat; the Master's always been hypnotic, though definitely not on a scale as grand as this -- joking about the appeal he had, and yet at the same time, he seems to have an odd sort of kinship, an odd sort of control over the Toclafane -- if these creatures are indeed Toclafane.
He remembers Gallifrey all too clearly, and the stories of the Toclafane told when he and the Master (Koschei, at the time) were only children. Back there, the Toclafane were all but the monsters under the bed -- stories told to scare small Gallifreyan children like himself and Koschei. They couldn't be real --
He's so busy thinking that he doesn't notice the Master standing over him, laser screwdriver in hand. "I really am sorry I have to do this, Doctor," he says, "But I'm afraid you leave me no choice."
The Doctor steels himself, at least on the inside. If the Master's going to kill him, he's going to at least face death with whatever dignity he has left. And yet...
"It doesn't have to end like this."
"I'm afraid it does, Doctor. I'm afraid it does. Do you remember Professor Lazarus and his genetic manipulation device?"
The Doctor can only nod.
"What, did you think that little Tish got that job merely by coincidence? I've been laying traps for you all this time. And if I can concentrate all that Lazarus technology into one little screwdriver... But oh, if only I had the Doctor's biological code. Oh, wait a minute, I do! I've got his hand! And if Lazarus made himself younger, what if I reverse it? Another... hundred years?"
No. He can't possibly --
And then the pain starts through the Doctor's body -- he can already feel himself aging faster, faster, and somehow, it's worse than the gamma strike -- it feels almost like he's regenerating, and yet somehow worse, more painful --
And finally, it's over. He's aching, and his hands...it only takes a long look at his hands to see what's happened. They've aged. And somehow, he doesn't know if it's the aftereffects of the laser technology or something else, but he feels sore. He looks over at Rose, and even now, she seems almost in shock at what the Master's managed to do.
And yet Rose, dear Rose, tries to reassure him. "Don't worry, Doctor. We'll get out of this, I promise."
"That we will, Rose."
Even now, giving her directions, even watching her use the perception filter to get off the Valiant, the Doctor can only wearily close his eyes. She will return. She will return...
But even that...even that isn't easy.
Summary: They never thought that they'd grow apart. A character study of both Theta (the Doctor) and Koschei (the Master), past and present, more playing around in the Nine-in-Ten's-era 'verse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Rusty writing skills, angst, my attempts to delve a bit into Time Lord history, culture, what-have-you. Also, I think I've realized I spelled "Toclafane" wrong a bunch of times previously without realizing, so if there's a sudden spelling change... (I'm sorry. I'm not usually that bad at spelling characters' names. I'm sorry)
Prompt: Combat Scenarios.
Author's Notes: Title, again, comes from "Storm" by Lifehouse. Call me crazy. XD
It's a typical night in the House of Oakdown. Though Koschei's life is more of a life of duty, his father more than respects and allows his friendship with Theta Sigma. Which Koschei is glad of -- more than glad of, really. Theta is considered a bit of an oddity on Gallifrey, thanks to some of his more...un-Time-Lord-like tendencies, for lack of a better word. He's nothing like the rest of us, some say, but if anything, that's one reason that Koschei likes him. There is something about Theta, about this unconventional, rather brash, restless, adventurous young boy, that he finds...quite endearing. If anything, Theta's allowed Koschei to relax, if slightly.
He doesn't lose sight of his duty, or making his father proud. He can't bear the mere thought of disappointing his father. But at the same time, it's not as prevalent as it used to be -- at least, the almost persistent fear of failure seems to niggle at him less.
It's long after they've spent some time romping in the red fields near Mount Perdition, one of their favorite places -- playing soldiers vs. Sontarans. Even now, remembering their session, Koschei can't help but chuckle, if slightly -- only Theta, really, would think of the Sontarans using dinosaurs to try and defeat them. Koschei has never really heard of the monsters called dinosaurs except for Theta's stories. Theta is simply...odd that way.
That and it helps from what he's read up on Earth culture. In between that and his mother's stories, Theta is quite curious about Earth culture. And from what he's hearing, Koschei's wondering if maybe he may become just as curious as well.
Koschei sighs and goes back to studying for his latest test on Gallifreyan history and economics. He can't risk failing. Otherwise, his father would be less than happy -- and that would be an understatement. It didn't help that noise in his mind, that constant tapping sound, almost like a drum: onetwothreeFOUR, onetwothreeFOUR...
He had tried to tune it out through sheer willpower. He can't say he succeeded.
He's glad when Theta comes back, dressed in blue sleepwear -- the younger, slightly cockier Time Lord child sits beside him, his brow furrowing in concern even as Koschei rubs his head, the drumming sound never seeming to simply leave...
"Koschei? Are you okay?"
"Oh. Nothing." Koschei tries his best to deflate his friend's concern; if there's anything he doesn't want for Theta, it's for him to worry. "Just...just a bit of a -- "
"It's that noise again, isn't it?" Theta's voice is sympathetic.
"I'm okay, Theta," he says, "Honest." A beat. "Any chance you want to study with me? We could help one another out a bit."
Theta grins. "All right! Where do we begin?"
Even now, helping Theta review some of the finer points of Gallifreyan history and creation, for a moment, the drumming sound in Koschei's mind seems to quiet, if slightly. At the very least, he's sufficiently distracted by helping Theta -- there's something relaxing about Theta's presence, something calming. Over time, Koschei's managed to relax a bit, joke a little more -- it helps that his father's also managed to relax a bit, but he thinks Theta's presence has helped the most.
He just wishes he could find a way for the noise to stop.
***
It's the moment that he sees these creatures kill President Winters that the Doctor moves out of hiding. He knows that it's the wrong thing to do, that it's the last thing that he wants to do, and he can hear Rose and the others whispering to him to stop
what are you doing?
but it doesn't matter. The old anger is welling up in him, the old anger, the shock, the disbelief when the kindly Professor Yana was revealed to be the Master. The old anger the Master was practically feeding off of
he could still remember the Master's sigh, almost as if the Doctor's anger was something he couldn't get enough of. the way he described the destruction of Daleks and Time Lords alike as if it were a work of sheer art
that led him to start running towards the Master, towards Harold Saxon --
-- only to be felled by some sort of laser-like thing that sends jolts through his whole body. He falls to the ground, feeling almost like he did when he had to take the gamma radiation into his body atop the Empire State Building -- pain coursing through his body.
The Master stands over him, grinning smugly. "We meet at last, Doctor." He laughs. "I love saying that!"
And even now, looking up into the face of the man who had been one of his dearest friends back on Gallifrey (and one of his oldest enemies), the Doctor cannot help but feel almost sick.
"That," the Doctor manages to grit out, "Is obvious." Even now, getting up is difficult -- everything seems to ache. "I'm not here to fight you, Master -- but I will if I have no choice."
Murmurings in the crowd, no doubt of confusion -- no doubt wondering why he's calling the Prime Minister "the Master". Or at least how he knows the Master. Or wondering, at least, why Public Enemy #1 has taken this opportunity to reveal himself.
"I should have expected that, Doctor."
There's a hint of bitterness in the Master's voice -- a hint of amusement, a hint of scorn. Almost as if wondering why the Doctor, in the name of all that is holy, is trying this tactic on him.
"And, oh, look! You brought the girlie and the freak with you, though I don't know which is which." The Master's looking towards Martha and Jack even as he speaks, which only rekindles the Doctor's anger. It only spikes after the Master aims the device he used on the Doctor earlier -- no doubt on a stronger setting -- in Jack's direction.
"Jack, get out of the w -- "
Evidently, it's not fast enough. Jack falls to the ground.
"Laser screwdriver." The Master sounds so irritatingly smug that the Doctor has to barely resist the urge to just, for lack of a better word, wipe that smirk off the Master's face. "Who would have thought to use sonic? And the best part is, he's not dead long -- I get to kill him again!"
That does it. The Doctor doesn't so much as go in for the kill as much as practically pounces -- he doesn't know how long it is before one of the guards the Master has manages to pull him off. Glaring at the Master, bruises still forming on his face no doubt, the Doctor only manages to get some solace in that he managed to at least go down swinging, so to speak, but even that is very feeble solace in contrast to the defeat and humiliation now boiling up in him.
I let him provoke me. What kind of Time Lord am I?
"Are you all right?" Rose is now at his side, and something about her presence seems to calm him -- at least somewhat. At the very least, it's comforting to know that she's here. And Martha as well.
"I am, Rose. I just..." He groans, rubs his temples. "I am such an idiot."
The worst part is that he already has a feeling that this isn't the end -- not by a long shot. There will be plenty more things to come. He can hear the Toclafane practically fussing over the Master, begging to kill the Doctor, and the Doctor prepares to defend himself. Or if he can't, face his doom.
But he can't die. Not here, when he has to protect Rose and the others.
Eventually, the Master seems to calm them down, at least somewhat -- even watching, the Doctor can't help but be somewhat bewildered. The Master may have been somewhat -- emphasis on the somewhat; the Master's always been hypnotic, though definitely not on a scale as grand as this -- joking about the appeal he had, and yet at the same time, he seems to have an odd sort of kinship, an odd sort of control over the Toclafane -- if these creatures are indeed Toclafane.
He remembers Gallifrey all too clearly, and the stories of the Toclafane told when he and the Master (Koschei, at the time) were only children. Back there, the Toclafane were all but the monsters under the bed -- stories told to scare small Gallifreyan children like himself and Koschei. They couldn't be real --
He's so busy thinking that he doesn't notice the Master standing over him, laser screwdriver in hand. "I really am sorry I have to do this, Doctor," he says, "But I'm afraid you leave me no choice."
The Doctor steels himself, at least on the inside. If the Master's going to kill him, he's going to at least face death with whatever dignity he has left. And yet...
"It doesn't have to end like this."
"I'm afraid it does, Doctor. I'm afraid it does. Do you remember Professor Lazarus and his genetic manipulation device?"
The Doctor can only nod.
"What, did you think that little Tish got that job merely by coincidence? I've been laying traps for you all this time. And if I can concentrate all that Lazarus technology into one little screwdriver... But oh, if only I had the Doctor's biological code. Oh, wait a minute, I do! I've got his hand! And if Lazarus made himself younger, what if I reverse it? Another... hundred years?"
No. He can't possibly --
And then the pain starts through the Doctor's body -- he can already feel himself aging faster, faster, and somehow, it's worse than the gamma strike -- it feels almost like he's regenerating, and yet somehow worse, more painful --
And finally, it's over. He's aching, and his hands...it only takes a long look at his hands to see what's happened. They've aged. And somehow, he doesn't know if it's the aftereffects of the laser technology or something else, but he feels sore. He looks over at Rose, and even now, she seems almost in shock at what the Master's managed to do.
And yet Rose, dear Rose, tries to reassure him. "Don't worry, Doctor. We'll get out of this, I promise."
"That we will, Rose."
Even now, giving her directions, even watching her use the perception filter to get off the Valiant, the Doctor can only wearily close his eyes. She will return. She will return...
But even that...even that isn't easy.