Fic: Monster
Title: Monster
Rating: T
Word count: 700
Characters: Eleven, Rory, mentions of Amy and River
Timeline/spoilers: Between Pandorica Opens and Big Bang.
Summary: The monster is him: he is the monster.
Challenge: ‘We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell’ - Oscar Wilde
The box closed, and he was alone.
So utterly alone.
How had he translated the writing for Amy? ‘A nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies...the most feared being in all the cosmos.’ He’d got that right, hadn’t he? The most feared being, feared by so many creatures, so many races - and so many of them had been represented in their grand ceremony, his imprisonment. Feared and terrible and nameless.
Soaked in blood.
Maybe his people had been right. Not that it had done them any good, in the end, and it was a bad train of thought to be following, but he couldn’t help wondering if maybe - just maybe - they had been right about him.
Alone, potentially forever, he had to admit to himself that part of him - just a small part, barely enough to count, or at least so he wished he could believe - part of him knew they were right to do this. They were right, because he was dangerous.
In the darkness of the box, he smiled a mirthless smile. Those beings out there…Sontaran, Cybermen, Daleks, Judoon, Sycorax, an endless list. None of them hated him as much as he hated himself. He could hide it - did hide it - but it was always there, lurking in the corners of his mind, just waiting to come to the forefront.
Cause and effect. The basics of the universe, the foundations of everything in existence, but it was a lesson he still hadn’t learned. He had caused problems for so many species, and so they had locked him up. The ultimate prison for the ultimate monster.
And he was a monster, he knew that. He pretended otherwise, tried to be otherwise - tried to help people, end suffering and persecution - but there was no escaping it. Not now, not when he couldn’t run and travel and try to leave it behind. Leave himself behind.
Hell wasn’t other people, far from it.
He supposed it didn’t matter now anyway, whether he was a monster or not. Like a moth to a flame, he’d sniffed out the Pandorica as his enemies had intended; he’d flitted about and grandstanded and finally, inevitably, been burnt by the mystery. Trapped.
An eternity with just himself for company. He’d go mad, sooner or later. There were some, he knew, who said he was mad already. He’d told Amy he was mad, hadn’t he?
Amy. Rory. River. They were all out there somewhere, in the midst of the danger, and there was nothing he could do to save them. He hoped River didn’t need help; she seemed able to take care of herself, if a little prone to getting into dangerous situations. Not that he could talk, really. And as for Amy - she was, as many of his companions were, a danger magnet. With the number of hostile aliens that had managed, somehow, to group together to trap him…he hoped she was alright. He hoped.
Rory. Rory would keep her safe. She was always his first thought. Rory would do everything he could. He was a good man, human or not. He loved Amy. He would protect her if he possibly could.
There was nothing he could do. Trapped. Alone. Helpless.
And then the box slowly began to open. The Doctor lifted his head, stared out to see - Rory Williams. The restraints around his wrists lifted up, freeing him.
“How did you do that?” he asked after a moment.
“You gave me this,” Rory said, holding up the sonic screwdriver - his sonic screwdriver. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced another screwdriver, identical in every way.
“No, I didn’t,” he contradicted.
“You did,” Rory huffed. “Look at it.”
He slowly stood up and left the box, the Pandorica, his prison, and held his screwdriver out to Rory’s. He touched the ends together, and they sparked.
“Temporal energy,” he said. “Same screwdriver at different points in its own timestream. Which means it was me who gave it to you, me from the future.” He had to smile a little. “I’ve got a future,” he said. “That’s nice.”
He was still a monster, but at least he was a monster with a future now.
Rating: T
Word count: 700
Characters: Eleven, Rory, mentions of Amy and River
Timeline/spoilers: Between Pandorica Opens and Big Bang.
Summary: The monster is him: he is the monster.
Challenge: ‘We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell’ - Oscar Wilde
The box closed, and he was alone.
So utterly alone.
How had he translated the writing for Amy? ‘A nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies...the most feared being in all the cosmos.’ He’d got that right, hadn’t he? The most feared being, feared by so many creatures, so many races - and so many of them had been represented in their grand ceremony, his imprisonment. Feared and terrible and nameless.
Soaked in blood.
Maybe his people had been right. Not that it had done them any good, in the end, and it was a bad train of thought to be following, but he couldn’t help wondering if maybe - just maybe - they had been right about him.
Alone, potentially forever, he had to admit to himself that part of him - just a small part, barely enough to count, or at least so he wished he could believe - part of him knew they were right to do this. They were right, because he was dangerous.
In the darkness of the box, he smiled a mirthless smile. Those beings out there…Sontaran, Cybermen, Daleks, Judoon, Sycorax, an endless list. None of them hated him as much as he hated himself. He could hide it - did hide it - but it was always there, lurking in the corners of his mind, just waiting to come to the forefront.
Cause and effect. The basics of the universe, the foundations of everything in existence, but it was a lesson he still hadn’t learned. He had caused problems for so many species, and so they had locked him up. The ultimate prison for the ultimate monster.
And he was a monster, he knew that. He pretended otherwise, tried to be otherwise - tried to help people, end suffering and persecution - but there was no escaping it. Not now, not when he couldn’t run and travel and try to leave it behind. Leave himself behind.
Hell wasn’t other people, far from it.
He supposed it didn’t matter now anyway, whether he was a monster or not. Like a moth to a flame, he’d sniffed out the Pandorica as his enemies had intended; he’d flitted about and grandstanded and finally, inevitably, been burnt by the mystery. Trapped.
An eternity with just himself for company. He’d go mad, sooner or later. There were some, he knew, who said he was mad already. He’d told Amy he was mad, hadn’t he?
Amy. Rory. River. They were all out there somewhere, in the midst of the danger, and there was nothing he could do to save them. He hoped River didn’t need help; she seemed able to take care of herself, if a little prone to getting into dangerous situations. Not that he could talk, really. And as for Amy - she was, as many of his companions were, a danger magnet. With the number of hostile aliens that had managed, somehow, to group together to trap him…he hoped she was alright. He hoped.
Rory. Rory would keep her safe. She was always his first thought. Rory would do everything he could. He was a good man, human or not. He loved Amy. He would protect her if he possibly could.
There was nothing he could do. Trapped. Alone. Helpless.
And then the box slowly began to open. The Doctor lifted his head, stared out to see - Rory Williams. The restraints around his wrists lifted up, freeing him.
“How did you do that?” he asked after a moment.
“You gave me this,” Rory said, holding up the sonic screwdriver - his sonic screwdriver. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced another screwdriver, identical in every way.
“No, I didn’t,” he contradicted.
“You did,” Rory huffed. “Look at it.”
He slowly stood up and left the box, the Pandorica, his prison, and held his screwdriver out to Rory’s. He touched the ends together, and they sparked.
“Temporal energy,” he said. “Same screwdriver at different points in its own timestream. Which means it was me who gave it to you, me from the future.” He had to smile a little. “I’ve got a future,” he said. “That’s nice.”
He was still a monster, but at least he was a monster with a future now.