HP/DW: Clarke's First Law (13.2/?)
Summary: Rose is stuck in Fred's World and the Doctor knows that getting her back is impossible. Then again, doesn't the universe just love to prove him wrong? Meanwhile, trouble is brewing for Rose on the other side of the wall. Sequel to Clarke's Third Law.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or Harry Potter. I just decided that it would be a good idea to combine them (and I wasn't the first to come up with that idea, either).
Note: Sequel to Clarke's Third Law
(Chapter 12 part 1 here)
Chapter 12 (part 2): Wibbly-Wobbly, Time-Wimey
Speaking more loudly, he asked, “Alright, Doc. What’s the plan?”
“You and I go find Rose. Al, Hugo, you two need to stay here.” When both of the young wizards went to protest, the Doctor explained himself.
“Albus, you saw what it’s like out there. It’s a madhouse and I have no doubt they’re short on healers. As for you, Hugo, you’re familiar with this world, so you know. They blend magic and muggle technology. Your element. You’d be far more useful here then you would trying to find your sister.”
It took another few rounds of convincing, but finally Al and Hugo settled. When Ianto assured the Doctor that he would help the two get settled, he and Jack left after being shown the way out of Diagon Alley.
They stopped just outside the Leaky Cauldron, examining the oddly drawn map. Finally, Jack pointed to his right and said, “I think it’s that way.”
“I think it’s that way,” the Doctor said, pointing in the opposite direction.
“I think that you’re holding the map upside down,” Jack corrected. The Doctor looked and saw that Jack was right. He fixed the map and then nodded, turning and heading towards the direction Jack had pointed in.
It took a few more false starts and one rather interesting run in with a group of hippies, but they finally made it to a tall, imposing building. The watched, hidden in the shadows of an alleyway nearby, as men and women entered and left the building, a guard standing watch, carefully scrutinizing each person who passed through
“That must be Saxon’s headquarters,” Jack muttered.
The Doctor agreed. “And Rose is inside. Eighth floor, room three, looks like.”
“What’s your plan, then?” Jack asked.
“Get inside and find her,” the Doctor said obliviously. Jack whacked him on the arm. That was clearly not what he had meant. The Doctor rubbed the spot where Jack had hit and said, “And I was hoping that you could distract the guard while I did it.”
Jack beamed. “One distraction, coming up!”
The Doctor could only watch fondly as Jack sauntered off, his trademark swagger in his step, and struck up conversation with the guard. The Doctor still didn’t know how he managed it (he himself couldn’t even ask the woman he lo-liked on a date), but within minutes, the ex-conman was quite happily kissing his new friend.
The Doctor moved out from the alleyway and slipped through the door, the guard too distracted by Jack’s tongue, apparently. The Doctor shot Jack a thumbs up as the door shut behind him. He then found himself in a large lobby. He could see a woman at the front desk buzzing people in.
“Yes, hello,” the Doctor said walking over. He held up his psychic paper.“I’m here from the plumbing company. I heard there were some issues with a toilet-?”
“I didn’t hear about anything,” the woman said frowning.
“Well, I saw there were problems,” the Doctor said easily. “More that there will be. We’ve been monitoring from headquarters and noticed some faulty pipes. Exploding toilets and the like. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“No,” the woman said, obviously panicked. She immediately pressed the buzzer and let the Doctor in.
“Thank-you!” he chirped. He placed the psychic paper back in his pocket as he headed straight for the elevator. He pressed the button for the eighth floor. As the doors to the elevator closed, he gave the frazzled receptionist a salute.
Ding.
When the elevator reached its destination, the Doctor stopped humming along with the elevator music and stepped out. He took a random corridor (not really sure which way the room was, but hesitant to take out a map and be noticed by the other workers) and thankfully found himself headed in the right direction.
When he found room 803, he was surprised when he looked through the large glass windows and saw not Rose, but a man not much older than the Doctor (appeared to be). The man saw him and beckoned him inside. Never one to refuse such a tempting invitation, the Doctor opened the door and walked inside.
“Hello,” he greeted.
“Ah, Doctor,” the man greeted. “How lovely of you to join me. Please, do take a seat.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” the Doctor said, immediately sensing that something wasn’t right. There was something else, but he couldn’t place it. Darn the telepathic field! It was stronger here (no doubt because the source was nearby) and was muddling his head. “I seem to be in the wrong place. Sorry to disturb you.&rdquo
“You won’t be going anywhere, I’m afraid.” The man waved some people over and the Doctor suddenly found himself surrounded by guards. They were very large men, tall and imposing. They glared at the Doctor, but he seemed unaffected, much to their dismay. They made good money looking menacing and didn’t help if the person they were supposed to be frightening didn’t look all that scared.
The Doctor hummed. “You flatter me, really you do. It’s been a while sinBut you seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“Doctor, Doctor, Doctor,” the man sighed, sounding horribly disappointed. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. “I would’ve thought for sure you would’ve figured it all out by now. You’ve been here for at least a few hours, haven’t you? But, oh well. You never were as clever as you thought you were-- neither the version of you from my world or you yourself.”
“Do we know each other?” the Doctor asked, narrowing his eyes and peering at the man closer, but no. He didn’t remember him from anywhere. “Does my parallel version know you, then?”
“‘Did’ he know me,” the man corrected. “He’s- you’re- dead now.”
He said this bluntly, hoping to see the Doctor flinch. The Doctor didn’t.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” the Doctor said instead.
“Always this odd fascination with names,” the man breathed. “I see that hasn’t changed. Yours is strange, certainly: the man who fixes things. Wonder why you chose that. As for mine, you always used to say that it was every therapist’s dream.”
The Doctor knew immediately who he was facing. He breathed a name he never thought he’d hear- let alone say- again. “Master.”
“Oh, good! You see, then!” The Master said gleefully.
And the Doctor did see, because no matter what the Master said, he was clever.
And, really, who else would’ve been so brilliant as to disguise himself as a muggle, set up a low level telepathic field, and try to enslave the human race. Well, maybe. The Doctor still had no idea what the Master was planning, but that was beside the point. He had been so thick not to nice, especially now that he could feel the Master’s presence. Oh, he could make all sorts of excuses for himself (that the telepathic field had impeded his abilities, that the TARDIS was so uncomfortable that it really blocked out all else, that he had been in Jack’s presence for several hours now), all true, but really
He should’ve seen.
“I’ve missed the way you’ve said my name,” the Master relished, breaking into the Doctor’s thoughts. “It’s been so lonely, you know. Since the Time War.”
“The Time War happened hear as well?” the Doctor asked, clearing his throat. “Then how did you survive?”
“They brought me back to fight, the Time Lords did.” The Master sneered. “And so I fought and I destroyed them all. And the war landed me here. On this backwater planet that you were always so fond of. Even after spending all this time among them, I still can’t see the appeal.”
The look on the Master’s face told the Doctor everything he needed to know. “The silence. In your head. It’s driven you mad.” The Doctor said. He couldn’t help but be filled with a deep sorrow for his former schoolmate. Even by Academy standards, the Master had been brilliant. And now that brilliance had been rusted, dulled by the pressures of darkness and evil that the Doctor knew lurked in the very deepest part of every man’s soul.
“Not the silence, my dear Doctor,” the Master hissed. “But the drumbeats!”
The Doctor shook his head. “There are no drumbeats.”
“Yes, there are!” the Master screamed back. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “And I wasn’t the only one who could hear them. I broadcast them around the world.”
“Hypnosis,” the Doctor deduced. “I thought you were above party tricks.”
The Master snorted. “I didn’t need more than party tricks to convince these humans to follow me.”
“Until your plan- whatever your plan is, as you still haven’t told me- started falling apart. As did time.&rdquo
“A minor setback,” the Master shrugged. “A low level telepathic field and nobody even noticed. See?”
The Master gestured to the guards and the Doctor couldn’t help but concede the Master’s point. The two men had hardly blinked since the Doctor entered the room
“Why bother with all this?” the Doctor asked. “What’s the point? You always have a point-- no matter how misguided it may seem.”
“Thank-you,” the Master said drily. “I live for your praise. As it happens, I wanted to leave Earth the moment I got here. When it become obvious that wouldn’t be happening, I thought I’d settle in as Muggle Representative until it was safe enough for me to begin a more global quest for power.”
“What changed?’
“Huon particles,” the Master replied. “From that pet of yours. What’s her name again? Oh, yes, Rose Weasley.”
“Where is she?” the Doctor demanded, he leapt forward, but the guards pulled him back. He continued to struggle as he said, “What have you
done to her?”
“Nothing,” the Master said, sounding far too innocent. However, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key. The Doctor recognized it as Rose’s immediately. The Master let it dangle teasingly between his fingers. “If I were you, I’d be a bit more subtle in your tracking methods. Glowing TARDIS keys are a bit of a giveaway.”
The look in the Doctor’s eyes grew cold and he stilled. It was the look that civilizations and leaders and murderers and traitors and enemies had come to fear. It was the look of the Oncoming Storm, of the man who fought with angels and daemons and won. It was the look that promised retribution for all who were caught in it’s wake.
Most importantly, it was the look of a man who had nothing to lose and nobody to stop him.
“If you have harmed her in any way,” the Doctor said, but he didn’t seem able to finish. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to. His threat seemed obvious enough.
“I haven’t been harming her,” the Master tutted. “I’ve been helping her. The moment she entered this world, I sensed a new source of Huon Particles- knew about those, did you? Good for you!- and began draining them. You know how pesky those things can be, especially to fragile, little humans. Honestly, Doctor, my work might’ve saved her life!”
“While tearing this universe apart in the process,” the Doctor said grimly.
The Master shrugged, unconcerned. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Honestly, I have no clue where the cracks are coming from. Nor do I care to find out. I’ll be long gone by the time they do any real damage.”
“But what do you want with the Huon Particles?” the Doctor scowled, still in the grip of the (as he was now discovering) rather strong guards. “There’s no use left for them unless-” The Doctor’s eyes widened in realization.
“Unless I plan to power a TARDIS,” the Master finished. “Very good. Of course, it’s all pointless now. Your TARDIS is here and I have the key. Even better: I have a gateway to a parallel world, should I choose. That might be fun. Leave you and your little band stranded here as time itself collapses while I go off and have some fun.”
“Oh, yea,” the Doctor said nonchalantly. “Sounds like a ball.”
“Glad you think so!” the Master beamed. “How about your friend? Does he feel the same?”
The Doctor craned his neck and watched as Jack was dragged into the room by another pair of guards. He gave the Doctor a rueful look.
“Sorry, Doc. I guess I’m not as good as distractions as I used to be. I’m a bit out of practice.”
“Oh, honestly!” the Master said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “He feels so wrong. How can you possibly put up with him?”
Neither Jack nor the Doctor dignified this with an answer. The Master didn’t seem to mind their newfound silence.
“Done talking, are you?” he shrugged. “Fine by me. I was growing bored, anyway. But really, this has been fun! Doctor, you and your friend will now be escorted downstairs to the holding cells-”
“You have holding cells here?” Jack asked incredulously.
The Master ignored him and stood up from his desk. He walked over to the Doctor until they were standing toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose, the Doctor still restrained. Neither of them looked away. Neither blinked...
Until the Doctor felt a hand reach into his pocket. He stiffened and the Master rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Doctor. I got over my little crush on you centuries ago. No, no. I just wanted to make sure I had this.” He held up the Doctor’s Sonic Screwdriver, shrugged, and then put it in his pocket.
“There. Now you can’t escape, despite your odd talent for doing so. Instead, you’ll get to watch this world burn, much like I suspect you watched Gallifrey burn. How will that feel? To be responsible for the end of another world, even if it was never truly your own? To know you couldn’t save it?”
All the Doctor could do was bow his head and screw his eyes shut. For once, unsure of what to say or what he was going to do.
“Not to mention,” the Master continued, “I’ll be taking your TARDIS! Talk about kicking a man while he’s down, hm?”
One of the guards cracked a smile at the Master’s sick attempt at a joke.
However, the Master contemplated the Doctor for a long moment. “I’ll tell you what, though. I will give you one thing. A consolation prize.” He turned to the guards. “Put them in the cell with the others, yes?”
The guards dragged both the Doctor and Jack away, down the corridor and past the prying eyes of workers. They didn’t protest, however.
They stood and watched for a moment, but then turned back to whatever they were doing, truly slaves to the Master’s control
Walking to the holding cells seemed to be the longest trip in the Doctor’s life. Of course, he had never had an patience, anyway. Finally, a door (locked with a hand-scanner, key-card, and four digit access code) opened and Jack and the Doctor were pushed harshly inside. The Doctor stumbled as the door closed behind him.
He had just about regained his balance when he heard a voice from the other corner of the room- a voice he never thought he’d hear again. “Doctor?”
The Doctor did lose his balance this time and fell flat on his face. He heard footsteps come closer to him. From the point where his right cheek was laying on concrete, his face turned to the side, he saw two trainer clad feet stop near his head and somebody knelt down beside him. He looked up and found himself staring into the eyes of the woman he-.
“Rose.”