for dreams_in_red: End of the World
FOR THE DRABBLE MEME.
• It's my world, my love, my gun
well It's the end of the world
well It's the end of the world
well It's the end of the world
well It's the end of the world
No I’m all alone, kept the pain inside.
Wanna torch the world, cos I’m breathing fire.
Yes I’m all alone, kept the pain inside.
Wanna torch the world, cos I’m breathing fire.. •
Lucy isn't insane.
Not in the classical sense of the word. Not the madness her husband so willingly flaunts as he slides from room to room, surveying his kingdom. While she might dance to the beat of her own drums, they're not the same drums that pulsate through her husband's mind, they're not the drums of war and madness.
All the same, she's not all there. The Doctor can tell she's been broken in ways he knows he can't fix. It's the way she moves, the vacancy in her eyes. It's as if the deceptive and cruel woman he met months ago has left the building, and there's no one home to feel the things she's feeling.
There are always deep, penetrating bruises that she's not allowed to cover up with makeup. Marks of how much the Master loves her (because he really only hurts the ones he loves.) The Doctor has his own share of bruises, but his don't mark quite as artistically on his old skin as hers do.
She only comes to the bars of the Doctor's cage one. It's the night the Master breaks her wrist and shatters her collarbone, but that all happens after. Right now, right now she's slowly creeping towards it, as if she thinks the cameras pointed at the box in the center of the room somehow will miss her if she moves more slowly.
She touches the bars, but recoils immediately, as if expecting him to leap up from his wheelchair and attack. He doesn't move, and she becomes only the tiniest bit more relaxed. Her fingers curl around the bars and she leans, ever so slightly, to the left, bracing herself on the weight of the heavy bars.
"I'm going to kill him," she says. Her voice is calm, as though she were talking about the weather or the coldness of the bars.
He doesn't say anything at first. What can he say to her? He could tell her it's wrong to kill the Master, but it was wrong to kill one-tenth of the population and that didn't stop her. So, instead, he says, "Why?"
"I don't want him to hurt me anymore," she says, and he doesn't think she's just talking about the welt under her eye. She traces a long, red fingernail across the bar she's holding. "I'm going to shoot him in the heart."
"With what gun?" he demands, surprised by the force in his voice. She's telling him she wants to murder the person he's trying to save, of course there's going to be force there.
She smiles at it. "I'll find one. And I'll shoot."
"You better not miss," he warns her.
"I won't."
There's a click, and the Doctor knows the Master is coming. He can feel the other Time Lord's mind, buzzing with fury for Lucy's actions, and mild irritation for her words (after all, she can't hurt him). The Doctor would tell her to go, but where would she run to? Running would only mean more pain.
"Why did you tell me?" he asks.
Her expression is pained, then. Like she expected him to understand, but he doesn't. She reaches her arm through the bars to touch the side of his face. Her skin is warm and surprisingly soft. She's quite the human, Lucy Saxon is.
"Because you won't let me," she says. "And I have to do this."
She has to do it, because she's always stood up for herself, in life. It's why the Master chose her, it's why she went through what she did with him. But she still loves him. She loves him, and she doesn't want to do what she knows she has to.
There's a smack and suddenly Lucy is thrown to the side, cradling her wrist. The Master doesn't even look at the Doctor, he just hits. And hits. And hits.
The punches start to sound like drumbeats. One beat after the other. And the Doctor can't stop them.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 565
• It's my world, my love, my gun
well It's the end of the world
well It's the end of the world
well It's the end of the world
well It's the end of the world
No I’m all alone, kept the pain inside.
Wanna torch the world, cos I’m breathing fire.
Yes I’m all alone, kept the pain inside.
Wanna torch the world, cos I’m breathing fire.. •
Lucy isn't insane.
Not in the classical sense of the word. Not the madness her husband so willingly flaunts as he slides from room to room, surveying his kingdom. While she might dance to the beat of her own drums, they're not the same drums that pulsate through her husband's mind, they're not the drums of war and madness.
All the same, she's not all there. The Doctor can tell she's been broken in ways he knows he can't fix. It's the way she moves, the vacancy in her eyes. It's as if the deceptive and cruel woman he met months ago has left the building, and there's no one home to feel the things she's feeling.
There are always deep, penetrating bruises that she's not allowed to cover up with makeup. Marks of how much the Master loves her (because he really only hurts the ones he loves.) The Doctor has his own share of bruises, but his don't mark quite as artistically on his old skin as hers do.
She only comes to the bars of the Doctor's cage one. It's the night the Master breaks her wrist and shatters her collarbone, but that all happens after. Right now, right now she's slowly creeping towards it, as if she thinks the cameras pointed at the box in the center of the room somehow will miss her if she moves more slowly.
She touches the bars, but recoils immediately, as if expecting him to leap up from his wheelchair and attack. He doesn't move, and she becomes only the tiniest bit more relaxed. Her fingers curl around the bars and she leans, ever so slightly, to the left, bracing herself on the weight of the heavy bars.
"I'm going to kill him," she says. Her voice is calm, as though she were talking about the weather or the coldness of the bars.
He doesn't say anything at first. What can he say to her? He could tell her it's wrong to kill the Master, but it was wrong to kill one-tenth of the population and that didn't stop her. So, instead, he says, "Why?"
"I don't want him to hurt me anymore," she says, and he doesn't think she's just talking about the welt under her eye. She traces a long, red fingernail across the bar she's holding. "I'm going to shoot him in the heart."
"With what gun?" he demands, surprised by the force in his voice. She's telling him she wants to murder the person he's trying to save, of course there's going to be force there.
She smiles at it. "I'll find one. And I'll shoot."
"You better not miss," he warns her.
"I won't."
There's a click, and the Doctor knows the Master is coming. He can feel the other Time Lord's mind, buzzing with fury for Lucy's actions, and mild irritation for her words (after all, she can't hurt him). The Doctor would tell her to go, but where would she run to? Running would only mean more pain.
"Why did you tell me?" he asks.
Her expression is pained, then. Like she expected him to understand, but he doesn't. She reaches her arm through the bars to touch the side of his face. Her skin is warm and surprisingly soft. She's quite the human, Lucy Saxon is.
"Because you won't let me," she says. "And I have to do this."
She has to do it, because she's always stood up for herself, in life. It's why the Master chose her, it's why she went through what she did with him. But she still loves him. She loves him, and she doesn't want to do what she knows she has to.
There's a smack and suddenly Lucy is thrown to the side, cradling her wrist. The Master doesn't even look at the Doctor, he just hits. And hits. And hits.
The punches start to sound like drumbeats. One beat after the other. And the Doctor can't stop them.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 565