Timelines, a Doctor Who fanfiction
Title: Timelines
Characters/Pairing: Theta, Koschei, implied Doctor/Master
Rating: PG
Genre: General/Angst
Disclaimer: Doctor Who is not mine
Summary: He stands in front of the Untempered Schism and finds himself holding three timelines in his hand; he follows them and finds that the other boy is holding them too.
Author's Note: Somehow this story, no matter how short it is, gave me a headache...
Special thanks to my beta-reader slashbutterfly from the site Perfect Imagination!
Timelines
He looks into the Vortex, looks through the gap in the fabric of reality that is the Untempered Schism and sees everything. All of Space and Time. What is, what was, what could be and what must not. He sees the creation of the Universe, of Time herself, and sees the creation of Gallifrey and the Time Lords.
And then, he sees how all ends.
He sees himself, too, how he is taken for initiation to the Untempered Schism, how he stands in front of it and he sees another boy. A boy being taken for initiation to the Untempered Schism, just like he was or will be, looking into it, just like he is. And they are both standing there, each of them in another time and yet at the same moment, and they stand together looking into the whole of Time.
He sees every possible past, present and future.
He sees his own future, every future unfold. But three are more vibrant than all the others.
He sits in front of the High Council. The robes of the President are a bit too stiff, but as a proper Time Lord it doesn't bother him. The current discussion is necessary, but of little importance. This work used to be inspiring, but that was centuries ago. When he looks to his side he finds the other boy sitting next to him, talking about the situation at hand. His voice is dull and so are his eyes. Lifeless.
He stands in front of the open TARDIS door and watches the entire universe burn in sync with the steady pulse that runs through him every waking hour and when he turns around he finds the other boy standing behind him, his face full of horror. He grasps the boy's chin and pulls him forwards. “Look,” he whispers into his ears. “Isn't it good?” His hand caresses the slack face, before he lets it slide lower to the boy's neck. “There is nowhere you can run to anymore. You will never leave me again. Isn't that good?” He forces him to his knees and his fingers move over the exposed throat. “Anything? No? Or did I finally break your hearts?” Laughter escapes his lips as he looks into already empty eyes.
He kneels on a hard metal ground, and when he looks down he sees that he is holding the other boy in his arms. He knows he has seen him die before, but then he never refused to live. He has seen him die before, and each time was worse than before, because he knows one day the boy won't come back to him and it feels like today is that day and he just can't lose another person he loves, cannot lose that boy again. So he begs and pleads and cries. It is not enough and helplessly he has to watch the life seeping out of the other boy's eyes. When they finally close, he screams and weeps. But it is too late. He is alone and the other boy is dead.
He stands in front of the Untempered Schism and finds himself holding three timelines in his hand; he follows them and finds that the other boy is holding them too.
x x x
He looks into the Vortex trough the gap in the fabric of reality that is the Untempered Schism and sees everything. All of Space and Time. What is, what was, what could be.
It is up to him to decide what must not be. Because the boy standing with him has not realized that it is his choice, too.
He sits in front of the High Council. The robes of the Chancellor are a bit too stiff, but as a proper Time Lord it doesn't bother him. The current discussion is necessary, but of little importance. This work used to be inspiring, but that was centuries ago. When he looks up he finds the other boy sitting next to him, listening silently to the discussion. So he concentrates back on what he has to say and tries to forget the dull eyes of the boy sitting next to him. They used to shine.
He watches the entire universe burn. The other boy, caressing his skin with cruel gentleness, made it burn for him. As he is forced to his knees, he feels the familiar rhythm being drummed out on his throat. He can't hear what the other boy hears, but he knows it was what drove him insane. He looks up to the boy hovering over him, laughing at him, and he can do nothing more than think of how empty and cold those once kind eyes look.
He is feeling the cold seeping into his body, as familiar arms hold him. Over the dreadful, incessant sound he can barely hear the voice of the other boy. He pleads him to stay and for a tiny moment he is tempted to do so. But the sound in his head drives him away and he just wants it to stop. It never does, it never will, he knows that better than anyone else, better than the boy who wants to help him. The other boy doesn't hear them and that is good, because it would just drive him as mad as he is. If he stays with the other boy, he will come to hear them and he can't allow that. He looks up and finds that the other boy's face is contorted in desperation, fear, frustration and hope. So vulnerable and yet so strong. Beautiful. Brilliant. Good. Tears fall from the other boy's broken eyes. Broken, yes, but still so full of life.
The boy who, one day, will be known as the Master decides what must not be and lets the drums choose him, as two timelines slip from his hands and the last ties him.
He looks at the other boy and with a smile on his face whispers one word. One simple word.
The boy who, one day, will be known as the Doctor watches in horror and obeys, as two timelines fall from his hands and the last binds him.
One will never forget what he saw in the Untempered Schism, but it will be lost underneath the drums and madness; the other one will run from his memories and forces himself to forget.
And so the future unfolds.
END
Characters/Pairing: Theta, Koschei, implied Doctor/Master
Rating: PG
Genre: General/Angst
Disclaimer: Doctor Who is not mine
Summary: He stands in front of the Untempered Schism and finds himself holding three timelines in his hand; he follows them and finds that the other boy is holding them too.
Author's Note: Somehow this story, no matter how short it is, gave me a headache...
Special thanks to my beta-reader slashbutterfly from the site Perfect Imagination!
Timelines
He looks into the Vortex, looks through the gap in the fabric of reality that is the Untempered Schism and sees everything. All of Space and Time. What is, what was, what could be and what must not. He sees the creation of the Universe, of Time herself, and sees the creation of Gallifrey and the Time Lords.
And then, he sees how all ends.
He sees himself, too, how he is taken for initiation to the Untempered Schism, how he stands in front of it and he sees another boy. A boy being taken for initiation to the Untempered Schism, just like he was or will be, looking into it, just like he is. And they are both standing there, each of them in another time and yet at the same moment, and they stand together looking into the whole of Time.
He sees every possible past, present and future.
He sees his own future, every future unfold. But three are more vibrant than all the others.
He sits in front of the High Council. The robes of the President are a bit too stiff, but as a proper Time Lord it doesn't bother him. The current discussion is necessary, but of little importance. This work used to be inspiring, but that was centuries ago. When he looks to his side he finds the other boy sitting next to him, talking about the situation at hand. His voice is dull and so are his eyes. Lifeless.
He stands in front of the open TARDIS door and watches the entire universe burn in sync with the steady pulse that runs through him every waking hour and when he turns around he finds the other boy standing behind him, his face full of horror. He grasps the boy's chin and pulls him forwards. “Look,” he whispers into his ears. “Isn't it good?” His hand caresses the slack face, before he lets it slide lower to the boy's neck. “There is nowhere you can run to anymore. You will never leave me again. Isn't that good?” He forces him to his knees and his fingers move over the exposed throat. “Anything? No? Or did I finally break your hearts?” Laughter escapes his lips as he looks into already empty eyes.
He kneels on a hard metal ground, and when he looks down he sees that he is holding the other boy in his arms. He knows he has seen him die before, but then he never refused to live. He has seen him die before, and each time was worse than before, because he knows one day the boy won't come back to him and it feels like today is that day and he just can't lose another person he loves, cannot lose that boy again. So he begs and pleads and cries. It is not enough and helplessly he has to watch the life seeping out of the other boy's eyes. When they finally close, he screams and weeps. But it is too late. He is alone and the other boy is dead.
He stands in front of the Untempered Schism and finds himself holding three timelines in his hand; he follows them and finds that the other boy is holding them too.
x x x
He looks into the Vortex trough the gap in the fabric of reality that is the Untempered Schism and sees everything. All of Space and Time. What is, what was, what could be.
It is up to him to decide what must not be. Because the boy standing with him has not realized that it is his choice, too.
He sits in front of the High Council. The robes of the Chancellor are a bit too stiff, but as a proper Time Lord it doesn't bother him. The current discussion is necessary, but of little importance. This work used to be inspiring, but that was centuries ago. When he looks up he finds the other boy sitting next to him, listening silently to the discussion. So he concentrates back on what he has to say and tries to forget the dull eyes of the boy sitting next to him. They used to shine.
He watches the entire universe burn. The other boy, caressing his skin with cruel gentleness, made it burn for him. As he is forced to his knees, he feels the familiar rhythm being drummed out on his throat. He can't hear what the other boy hears, but he knows it was what drove him insane. He looks up to the boy hovering over him, laughing at him, and he can do nothing more than think of how empty and cold those once kind eyes look.
He is feeling the cold seeping into his body, as familiar arms hold him. Over the dreadful, incessant sound he can barely hear the voice of the other boy. He pleads him to stay and for a tiny moment he is tempted to do so. But the sound in his head drives him away and he just wants it to stop. It never does, it never will, he knows that better than anyone else, better than the boy who wants to help him. The other boy doesn't hear them and that is good, because it would just drive him as mad as he is. If he stays with the other boy, he will come to hear them and he can't allow that. He looks up and finds that the other boy's face is contorted in desperation, fear, frustration and hope. So vulnerable and yet so strong. Beautiful. Brilliant. Good. Tears fall from the other boy's broken eyes. Broken, yes, but still so full of life.
The boy who, one day, will be known as the Master decides what must not be and lets the drums choose him, as two timelines slip from his hands and the last ties him.
He looks at the other boy and with a smile on his face whispers one word. One simple word.
The boy who, one day, will be known as the Doctor watches in horror and obeys, as two timelines fall from his hands and the last binds him.
One will never forget what he saw in the Untempered Schism, but it will be lost underneath the drums and madness; the other one will run from his memories and forces himself to forget.
And so the future unfolds.
END