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Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: Teen
DISCLAIMER: Again, Doctor/Martha isn't a thing.
Summary: Not the most cringiest, but not great. Mostly archiving here. Evil rival Time Lords.
Watching For Rassilon
The scene was every bit one out of a romance novel. The garden was perfect, the leaves still young and tender, forming a blanket over their heads, the water burbling in happiness, as the young lovers leaned into one another for one long, tender, beautiful kiss.
The Doctor watched them, and felt his hearts break.
'When you've been living with someone, you come to expect them there, to see their brilliant, smiling face every morning and just know in your heart that they'll be there for you, that the day will never come when you turn around and there's a hole, a space where they should be. And if that day ever comes, you feel incomplete, as if there's something missing, as if you're no longer whole.
You never realize while they're around how much they mean to you, how much a single missing element can mean until it's gone, and then nothing feels like home anymore.
You think I'd be used to it, lost and adrift, a man without a home. But I don't, ever. And them leaving-it wrenches the hearts, every time. Oh, I try to meet it with a brave smile, but inside a part of me is dying, leaving the space they had once cherished forever. Behind is a empty, desolate room, just another one, to be stacked amongst the sea of the loss of my hearts.
They leave them decorated, but in my mind they're only white walls, never again to be filled, a slate never to be erased, a hollow reminder of what was.
I used to go on a tour, every now and then, walk those rooms, and remember.
I don't recollect it being so painful. I don't need to, anymore, every detail etched in my mind, and it hurts too much to try.
Even so, they haunt me in my dreams, when I sleep. I haven't slept in a long time-too many tired, agonizing memories.
Here I haven't failed. None of these wanderings was supposed to be forever. If they can return, that's good. They're still alive, and they can return to their old life with new eyes, sparkling with joy, bursting at the wonder of life. I've shown them round the universe, let them live a little. And they relieve my endless loneliness, for a brief span. I certainly don't have the right to a monopoly on their lives.
So why do I feel as if these are the greatest catastrophes?'
*A Few Decades Ago (or maybe a few thousand years in the future*
The Doctor twirled around the console, trying to conceal his utter depression by even more enthusiasm. It didn't matter that there was only the TARDIS to see, and that she probably saw right through him (he pretended she hadn't).
'What d'ya think? The Steel Catacomb of the Prophet? The Fire Swings of Z'thulu? The Great Big Eye in the Middle of the Swamp?'
He listened to the murmuring, and shook his head, trying not to be dejected. 'Come on, you know we can't go there.'
The TARDIS became a bit more bumpy, as if she knew he was going to be stubborn about this and decided to cut the energy flow from the Heart of the TARDIS to the time column.
The Time Lord became even more firm. 'No. No way. We are definitely not going there, I don't care what you say.'
That was when his ship decided to ignore him completely and take off into the Vortex, so forcefully, in fact, that the Doctor was flung face forward into the console and felt the world dissolve.
He woke up, in an uncomfortable slump on the floor, to a quiet TARDIS, humming gently in satisfaction.
'Oh, as if you weren't at all concerned about me. Thank you, very much,' he muttered, sitting up and feeling the slight swelling on the back of his head. He wasn't all that sure that he should be awake right now, and even contemplated falling back into the soothing abyss of unconsciousness. 'I am making this a bad habit...' he added, remembering the plethora of other times he'd found himself sitting up after he'd somehow thrown himself into unconsciousness in the place he should be safest.
As if unrelated, the scanner screen buzzed into life, showing the world to the exterior of the time machine. He wanted to look away, having a general idea of what was about to happen...but couldn't.
Martha walked past, apparently oblivious to the tall blue box parked on the street. How she could miss the TARDIS after so long...but he wouldn't think about that. She was wearing a brown dress, completely different from her usual jeans and top approach, and looked rather fetching-especially for a human.
The Doctor sighed, a deep, heavy sigh. He'd wanted her to run, run away from him as fast as she could go, get away from the Oncoming Storm, the destroyer of worlds. But it was he who couldn't stay away. At least with Rose she'd had the decency to trap herself in another universe, where (hopefully) she was leading a brilliant life, away from him and his poisonous presence.
He waited for a long time, trying to steel his hearts against stepping outside of those doors, but in the end couldn't bear it any longer. He was curious as to where and when they were, and wasn't interested in finding that out just by looking at the scanner. It had, before, been wrong, and also, there was the factor that it was only a machine (connected to the TARDIS, he had to remind himself). Yes, it could tell him facts, but could it tell him what sort of adventures he would encounter the moment he stepped out of those doors? Ten minutes from now?
...He'd never felt this excited about any of his travels in a while, and shook his head to clear it. He'd just go find his adventure and try to avoid Martha completely. He hoped.
A little while of absent wandering brought him to a somewhat wild, gorgeous garden. No one really knew how to make gardens like the English, the Doctor mused.
He stopped stock still, a deer noticing a potential predator, upon seeing Martha there in the garden. For a minute, he wondered what to do, paralyzed by the indecision. Should he talk to her, or slip away quietly while he had the chance?
He wasn't forced to make the decision, as another man walked into the garden and sat close to Martha on the bench, and as she hugged him. It wasn't a platonic hug, either, the ones she'd always given him.
Something made his hackles raise.
This one seemed a little bit...dangerous. He'd approved of...Thomas, was it? Milligan, he was almost sure. The other doctor. He'd been good for her, if a little...well, he didn't want to say boring, but no other words would come to mind.
And it was when they began kissing, and the Doctor's mouth went dry as he fought the urge to run like a scared rabbit, that he knew he was in trouble.
He'd gone and fallen in love with a human. Again.
He cursed himself under his breath, not sure what else was appropriate at this particular juncture. He'd tried, desperately, not to let it happen again, but some part of him honestly wanted to be in the man's place, holding that soft body in his own arms, exploring her lips in a kiss that would make most faint with its intensity.
And something wasn't right about this new man, as the passion deepened and he couldn't look away. Was this some sort of old-fashioned tryst? He definitely wasn't supposed to be here.
the rival's another evil Time Lord, sort of like a mix between the Master and the Dream Lord. once he figures this out, he confronts them. and Martha yells at him, making him cry.
