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morgynleriTitle: The Man At the End of the Universe
Fandom: Doctor Who
AU: Darker Guardians
Rating: PG
Characters: Jacobi!Master, Nine, Donna Noble
Word Count: 1320
The Man At the End of the Universe
He couldn't remember where he came from, or how he'd arrived on Malcassario, with its ceaseless night that would end only with the universe itself. He wasn't even sure the face in the mirror was really his, with its close-cropped hair and prominent ears and proud nose. There was something missing in the blue eyes that stared back at him, but he couldn't ever remember what it was when he looked away. All he had was his work, and his companion, and an old, broken watch that he put in his pocket every morning even though it was useless.
Each day, working with what they had, trying to create a way to survive, to outlive the universe itself. Humanity still kicking and screaming and holding onto life with tooth and nail. A species that sometimes he felt detached from, even though he was a part of it. Feeling as much an outsider as Chan-tho, and wondering at it when he had the rare moment to think about more than the project.
He was trying to fix one of the power cables when someone new arrived, the faint thump and woosh of their ship fading into view in the corner of his workshop strangely familiar and disturbingly alien at the same time.
"The end of the universe now?" The first person to step out of what looked like nothing more than a storage shed that he knew he didn't have was a woman, loud and sounding like she was scolding whoever it was piloting the craft. "What's at the end of the universe that's so important you have to come here? There's nothing here, you said it yourself."
"I may have been mistaken." That voice was far too familiar for comfort, and he frowned, setting down the power cable as he watched, waiting for the owner of the voice to come through the door.
"Mistaken?" The woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she turned to look around his workshop. Stopping when her gaze settled on him.
"Hello," he said quietly, before she had a chance to open her mouth again. Hoping that she'd take the cue and lower her voice. "How'd you get here?" he asked, before she had a chance to return his greeting.
"TARDIS." She nodded at the shed she'd just emerged from. "Doesn't always look like that."
It was a familiar word, at the same time it was alien, like the sound it'd made as it appeared. Like his own face, and he wondered for a moment if they were all connected somehow.
An elderly man stepped out of the shed, looking around the room imperiously, a faint expression of distaste that put his hackles up. He knew this was the one who'd allowed that he might have been mistaken. Even if there was someone else, he didn't think anyone else would match up so well to the condescending tenor that had spoken earlier. The man looked straight at him, studying him for a moment before he spoke.
"I am looking for the Doctor." There was a curious thread of what he thought might be desperation under the cold disdain in the man's voice. Desperation or need.
"Doctor...?" he asked, recognizing the title, and wondering why it sounded like a name. It was his title, but it was just that, a title. It would be a conceit to use it for a name, and he frowned, not liking the idea of someone being called that.
"Just the Doctor."
"Sorry, there's no one around known simply as the Doctor. I'm Doctor Smith, though, if you'll settle for someone with the title used properly. Even if it is just a conceit."
"Doctor John Smith?" The man raised an eyebrow, amusement threading through the cool mask.
He frowned at the familiarity in the question, getting up from the bench he'd been using while working so he had more room to move. "Do I know you?"
"Clearly not, if you must ask."
"Then how do you know my name? Where did you hear it?"
"I've always known your name. And until recently, you've known mine."
"No, I haven't." He shook his head, ignoring the niggling sense that he did know this man, that he was as familiar as the face that looked back out of the mirror.
"You're wrong, you know. You have known, and you will remember. You've just forgotten." The man stepped closer, a frown on his face. "Changed what you are, always running. I never thought you'd hide like this, though. Never thought you'd hide from me."
~ ~~ ~
The Doctor had bolted into the recently-expanded depths of the TARDIS as soon as he'd woken up, leaving the now empty pocket watch beside the bed. Avoiding the Master's companions more than the Master himself, if only because he doubted he could truly hide from the Master inside the TARDIS. Not unless the Master let him, and that knowledge chafed as much as the lack of knowledge had while he was trapped in a human body. Five years, and most of that while the Master fought in the war he'd run from. Fled because he couldn't face the scale of the destruction, couldn't face how he knew it would end. Couldn't face the choice between losing his home and his people, or losing the entire universe.
"There's only so far you can run here." The Master was at the door to the small garden the TARDIS had provided. Watching him, he was certain, though why, he hadn't figured out.
"I know that." He shrugged, refusing to turn to face the Master. Watching the plants in the artificial sunlight and breeze. "It's far enough."
The rustle of fabric behind him alerted him to the Master's movement, enough that he didn't flinch when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, holding him in place as the Master came around to look him in the face. The Doctor wouldn't meet his gaze, determinedly looking past him at the garden itself. Running just as much as he could.
"This isn't what I expected of you, Doctor." The Master's free hand came up to grip his chin, forcing him to turn his face towards the Master. He didn't move, didn't speak again until the Doctor had met his gaze, blue eyes staring back at him that were far too familiar now. "You run, but not from me. Yet here you are, trying to hide from the one person you never have. Why?"
"Does it matter now?" The Doctor held his gaze now, steady and dark with turmoil. "They're all dead, it's all over, and all I could do was run. Run and regenerate and hide. From everything, and everyone. I should have stayed, found a way to stop you making that decision."
"Made that choice yourself?" The Master raised an eyebrow, amused and skeptical. "You couldn't destroy them before they had the chance to rise to the heights of power they did. Could you have made the decision to destroy them this time, even if you knew the cost of failure was the rest of the universe?"
He didn't answer, knowing too well he probably couldn't have, and not willing to give the Master the satisfaction of hearing him admit it. Pulling away from the Master, he moved deeper into the garden, meandering around shrubs and stands of ornamental grass. Unconsciously looking for a place to hide, even though he knew the Master would follow him, sooner or later, if he wasn't already.
"You have a room when you decide to stop sulking, Doctor."
The Master's voice came from the doorway, and the Doctor turned to frown in that direction through the screen of leaves that blocked his view. He didn't expect to be left alone, even though he'd made it obvious he'd rather be alone. To brood, not sulk. The door clicked shut, leaving him to the near-silence of the garden and his own thoughts.
Crossposted:
AO3, LiveJournal, my website
Fandom: Doctor Who
AU: Darker Guardians
Rating: PG
Characters: Jacobi!Master, Nine, Donna Noble
Word Count: 1320
He couldn't remember where he came from, or how he'd arrived on Malcassario, with its ceaseless night that would end only with the universe itself. He wasn't even sure the face in the mirror was really his, with its close-cropped hair and prominent ears and proud nose. There was something missing in the blue eyes that stared back at him, but he couldn't ever remember what it was when he looked away. All he had was his work, and his companion, and an old, broken watch that he put in his pocket every morning even though it was useless.
Each day, working with what they had, trying to create a way to survive, to outlive the universe itself. Humanity still kicking and screaming and holding onto life with tooth and nail. A species that sometimes he felt detached from, even though he was a part of it. Feeling as much an outsider as Chan-tho, and wondering at it when he had the rare moment to think about more than the project.
He was trying to fix one of the power cables when someone new arrived, the faint thump and woosh of their ship fading into view in the corner of his workshop strangely familiar and disturbingly alien at the same time.
"The end of the universe now?" The first person to step out of what looked like nothing more than a storage shed that he knew he didn't have was a woman, loud and sounding like she was scolding whoever it was piloting the craft. "What's at the end of the universe that's so important you have to come here? There's nothing here, you said it yourself."
"I may have been mistaken." That voice was far too familiar for comfort, and he frowned, setting down the power cable as he watched, waiting for the owner of the voice to come through the door.
"Mistaken?" The woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she turned to look around his workshop. Stopping when her gaze settled on him.
"Hello," he said quietly, before she had a chance to open her mouth again. Hoping that she'd take the cue and lower her voice. "How'd you get here?" he asked, before she had a chance to return his greeting.
"TARDIS." She nodded at the shed she'd just emerged from. "Doesn't always look like that."
It was a familiar word, at the same time it was alien, like the sound it'd made as it appeared. Like his own face, and he wondered for a moment if they were all connected somehow.
An elderly man stepped out of the shed, looking around the room imperiously, a faint expression of distaste that put his hackles up. He knew this was the one who'd allowed that he might have been mistaken. Even if there was someone else, he didn't think anyone else would match up so well to the condescending tenor that had spoken earlier. The man looked straight at him, studying him for a moment before he spoke.
"I am looking for the Doctor." There was a curious thread of what he thought might be desperation under the cold disdain in the man's voice. Desperation or need.
"Doctor...?" he asked, recognizing the title, and wondering why it sounded like a name. It was his title, but it was just that, a title. It would be a conceit to use it for a name, and he frowned, not liking the idea of someone being called that.
"Just the Doctor."
"Sorry, there's no one around known simply as the Doctor. I'm Doctor Smith, though, if you'll settle for someone with the title used properly. Even if it is just a conceit."
"Doctor John Smith?" The man raised an eyebrow, amusement threading through the cool mask.
He frowned at the familiarity in the question, getting up from the bench he'd been using while working so he had more room to move. "Do I know you?"
"Clearly not, if you must ask."
"Then how do you know my name? Where did you hear it?"
"I've always known your name. And until recently, you've known mine."
"No, I haven't." He shook his head, ignoring the niggling sense that he did know this man, that he was as familiar as the face that looked back out of the mirror.
"You're wrong, you know. You have known, and you will remember. You've just forgotten." The man stepped closer, a frown on his face. "Changed what you are, always running. I never thought you'd hide like this, though. Never thought you'd hide from me."
The Doctor had bolted into the recently-expanded depths of the TARDIS as soon as he'd woken up, leaving the now empty pocket watch beside the bed. Avoiding the Master's companions more than the Master himself, if only because he doubted he could truly hide from the Master inside the TARDIS. Not unless the Master let him, and that knowledge chafed as much as the lack of knowledge had while he was trapped in a human body. Five years, and most of that while the Master fought in the war he'd run from. Fled because he couldn't face the scale of the destruction, couldn't face how he knew it would end. Couldn't face the choice between losing his home and his people, or losing the entire universe.
"There's only so far you can run here." The Master was at the door to the small garden the TARDIS had provided. Watching him, he was certain, though why, he hadn't figured out.
"I know that." He shrugged, refusing to turn to face the Master. Watching the plants in the artificial sunlight and breeze. "It's far enough."
The rustle of fabric behind him alerted him to the Master's movement, enough that he didn't flinch when a hand came to rest on his shoulder, holding him in place as the Master came around to look him in the face. The Doctor wouldn't meet his gaze, determinedly looking past him at the garden itself. Running just as much as he could.
"This isn't what I expected of you, Doctor." The Master's free hand came up to grip his chin, forcing him to turn his face towards the Master. He didn't move, didn't speak again until the Doctor had met his gaze, blue eyes staring back at him that were far too familiar now. "You run, but not from me. Yet here you are, trying to hide from the one person you never have. Why?"
"Does it matter now?" The Doctor held his gaze now, steady and dark with turmoil. "They're all dead, it's all over, and all I could do was run. Run and regenerate and hide. From everything, and everyone. I should have stayed, found a way to stop you making that decision."
"Made that choice yourself?" The Master raised an eyebrow, amused and skeptical. "You couldn't destroy them before they had the chance to rise to the heights of power they did. Could you have made the decision to destroy them this time, even if you knew the cost of failure was the rest of the universe?"
He didn't answer, knowing too well he probably couldn't have, and not willing to give the Master the satisfaction of hearing him admit it. Pulling away from the Master, he moved deeper into the garden, meandering around shrubs and stands of ornamental grass. Unconsciously looking for a place to hide, even though he knew the Master would follow him, sooner or later, if he wasn't already.
"You have a room when you decide to stop sulking, Doctor."
The Master's voice came from the doorway, and the Doctor turned to frown in that direction through the screen of leaves that blocked his view. He didn't expect to be left alone, even though he'd made it obvious he'd rather be alone. To brood, not sulk. The door clicked shut, leaving him to the near-silence of the garden and his own thoughts.
Crossposted:
AO3, LiveJournal, my website