| Date: 20 January 2008
Characters: The Tenth Doctor, The Tenth Doctor Location: outside Link to IJ: thread #42065 |
 Earlier, he's wanted to avoid this alternate him, who came out of the war alone and was possibly mad. Now he was looking for him. He really couldn't fathom what this other Doctor thought he was playing at, feeding Yana little snippets of information about Time Lords, getting rid of the drums, and then not opening the watch. Was he in love with his own misery? Did he enjoy the thought of the Master trapped in a watch, doomed to an incorporeal prison if his aged human body died? The Doctor knew, in the back of his mind, that it was never smart, to go looking for someone when he was so angry. He tried to tell himself that he was leaving it to chance, whether he walked off his anger or found himself first. Yeah, that was the ticket. He was just...going for walk. Oh, wait, that suit over there looked awfully familiar. |
 He was mostly walking to keep from climbing the walls. He'd had enough of the TARDIS and saying this place was getting crowded would've been the understatement of many centuries. So, walk. It was nice, it was moving, he'd seen this place, half a dozen times already. When he heard footsteps behind him he turned, with a heavy sigh and eye-roll. His entire demeaor, attitude, everything behind the motion and sound said, 'What now?', even if the words never made it out of his mouth. Then he realized he was looking at himself, stopped and flailed an arm out, wiped it through his hair and half turned away, all at once. "Oh, for- " |
| He stood there, head cocked, examining...well, himself. It really was the exact same suit. "So...Professor Yana. Fob watch. Getting rid of the drums. Any of this ringing a bell?" |
| He lifted both of his eyebrows so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. "So... the Master. Sane. Terrible shirt. Any of that ringing a bell?" |
| Well....that wasn't the response he was expect. Somehow that deflated his righteous rage. "Terrible shirt?," he said, completely confused. "Usually it's ordinary white ones oxfords. Sometimes he goes wild and then its light blue." |
| He shook his head. "Bad seventies. I think it might even be polyester. Leather jacket. Very befuddling." |
| He scrunched up his face trying to put together that image. It wasn't working. "What?" He shook his head to clear it. "Wait, what does this have to do with what I was asking you about?" |
| He shrugged. "Not a thing. Why -was it meant to?" |
| This was more confusing then talking with previous and future incarnations of himself in his own universe. And possibly more aggravating. "I was asking if you knew Professor Yana. Who I just had a very interesting conversation with. Because he seemed to already know some version of me from around here somewhere." |
| "I understood the question," he informed ...Well, some version of himself, with rather a lot of annoyance. "Have you hit your head?" He was, absolutely, doing this on purpose. |
| He rolled his eyes, and nodded. "I see how it is." Yeah, now he remembered why he was angry. Yup, that was anger he was feeling right now. So, he went ahead and gave into his earlier impulse, and aimed a punch toward the other Doctor's jaw. |
| He didn't even think about ducking. He got hit in the jaw, hit his ass in the dust and stared. |
| He didn't move forward. He didn't actually want to do damage, after all. He just loomed over the body of the ground, grinning down wolfishly. "Well, I feel better. Do you feel better? You seem to enjoy emotional self-flagellation, after all. At least, that's the vibe I've been getting, talking to various people who know you. Correct me if I've gotten the wrong impression." |
| "You've got the wrong impression," he said, climbing to his feet. "What was that for? While we're at it - who have you been talking to?" |
| "Ooh...let's see. Rose. Met her. She seems really sweet, I can why you like her, but is it a good idea to unburden problems of your magnitude on a girl her age? Oh, and, the Master - who's still crazy it seems, so, good job there. "And last but not least, the dear Professor. Wonderful man. Anything but crazy. But wait! He's an aging human with an ongoing identity crisis, because he's actually a Time Lord! "I could understand if you'd just left him alone. I'm sure you'd have your reasons. I can understand trying to fix the drums, and attempting to recover the Master - hoping he comes out sane. But literally messing around with the Professor's head, giving him tiny bits of information about yourself, and who he really is, but not giving him enough information to make a decision? Who is this helping, exactly?" |
| He blinked a few times, spluttered, failed to come up with anything even remotely resembling words right away. When he managed it was only to say. "What?" Then another couple of deep breaths. "There are at least three Roses here, nearly half-a dozen Masters, at various stages of age, sanity and universe. There's also you, me, a couple of previous regenerations, untold points along timelines and universes, and you're trying to suppose you know enough about who-what-which-when-why to lecture me? You don't know who did what to who when or why. The size of your ego aside, you not really God." |
| He snorted. "Tell you don't pick up on a pattern, and jump to conclusions all the time. Or, better yet. Tell he what the hell you think you're doing with Yana? I'm not the one playing God there." |
| He rolled his eyes. "To steal a perfectly good earth phrase: None of your fucking business." |
| "But it's magically yours, even though you yourself point about there are all sorts of versions of people running around here, so you can't possibly be sure that this Yana is the one you know? I think that's called a double standard in your favor. And..no. I look at that face and... and I see the person who me got me through the war, when I had completely given up. I wanted to die, understand? And he saved me, despite the fact he was a mad as a hatter at the time. I think that makes it my fucking business. Just a little bit." |
| "It doesn't make it your business even a little bit, because he's not yours, and he most certainly is mine, and that's the man who wiped out most of the population of earth, and was then let himself die because he was so damned insane. Not your universe, not your Master, not your concern." |
| He ran his his face, trying to take that in. That...sounded like his worst nightmares. He took a deep breath, and then shakily let it out. "So you're really alone. I'm sorry. I can't imagine," he said in a low voice. "But, if he's yours, then you're already changing things. Don't pretend you're not." |
| "I hope like hell I'm changing things," he said. His voice was low, rough and as suddenly serious as his expression. |
| "You can make him better. I promise. He'll never be sweetness and light, but in my universe he's not a mass-murdering psychopath anymore. An arrogant, insufferable, brilliant control freak, yes, but he doesn't need to destroy everything he touches. And sometimes he can be sweetness and light to me." His lips curved in a bit of a smile. |
| He held his hands up, facing outward. "Thank you for that. That's so good to know. More than I needed to know by loads, but good to know." |
| Ok...this version? A bit of a prude, it seemed. "Yeah, about that..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The crazy one in a suit? May come track you down to tell you sordid details. I had my reasons, and they aren't quite what he thinks, ok? So just ignore him." |
| He grimaced. "Oh, you didn't." He looked, more than anything, just disturbed. Not disgusted, but really, really bothered. |
| He sighed. Really a prude, it seemed. "I think the evidence points towards, yes, I did. He was getting bored and frustrated here, and I lived in close proximity with him, with the drums, long enough to know how bad that could be. For him, and for everyone one around him." |
| He tilted his head to the side and his eyebrow up. "How was it?" |
| "Fantastic, actually. Why? Would that surprise you?" |
| He nodded. "Yup." |
| "Hmm. I initiated? He just seemed really happy to follow my lead, for the most part." |
| Both his eyebrows went up. "Now that really is surprising - and interesting." |
| "Really? Because he responded really well to...that's probably too much information. It was clear to me he wanted to be wanted. Even loved. He's just...crazy on top of all that." |
| He snorted. "Apparently he's not actually from the same universe as me, then." |
| "Maybe. I think he's under the impression you are, though." He studied his other self carefully. "That bad?" He asked softly. |
| He smiled, and nodded. The smile got nowhere near his eyes and it wasn't an amused expression - more reflex than anything else. "Oh, yes." |
| He nodded and swallowed. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. |
| He shrugged it off - pretty easily and with a shrug. "Why does that bother you more than the rest?" |
| He thought for a moment. "I love him?" he shrugged. "I really can't imagine being alone? I know he needs to trust you if you're ever going to fix him? If he doesn't love you, even a little bit, I'm not sure how you're ever going to stop being enemies? Lots of complicated reasons, and most of them aren't exactly rational, I'll admit." |
| He ruffled his hair and slid his hand down to rub the back of his neck. "All right." |
| "Yana seems to like you well enough. So, that's good. Probably." He bit his lip. "Do you have a plan there? Or are you just winging it?" |
| "I don't know," he admitted after a long moment spent sizing up this alternate version of himself. "A lot depends on what happens when I leave here - to normal time, I mean. For now, as long as there's not another half-crazed man man running around, frustrated and restless, it's enough for me." |
| He nodded. "Fair point, I suppose." He still wasn't sure he understood, actually, but whatever. "So...last of the Time Lords? How's that working out for you? Aside from the obvious downsides, we've touched on, I mean." He bounced on his toes. |
| He shook his head. "I'll let you know when I find an upside. I burned his body, my companions left and I fell in here. Haven't had much of a chance to work it out, and as long as I'm here I'm not the last, I?" The place was rather teeming. |
| God, could this poor bastard's life get any worse? He had to force himself not to wince. "Still traveling around in the TARDIS, never really stopping? Same old life?" he asked trying to keep his voice light. |
| "I thought for a moment I'd stop, but." He shrugged and made an indecisive sound. "Same old life. Busy. Not bad, all told." |
| "Just a little advice? No matter how this thing with the Professor goes? There's homeless, and there's homeless. I don't imagine you'll ever stop traveling, because I don't imagine I'll ever stop traveling. But it's good to know where you're going to go. When you do need to stop for just a little while. And I don't mean someplace random, somewhere in history, on Earth, for a lark." |
| He rolled his eyes heavenward. "This is taking self-pity to totally unacceptable heights." |
| He laughed out loud, at the other's exasperation. "Sorry. But if you're not going to listen to your own advice, so to speak, who are you going to listen to?" |
| "When have I ever listened to anyone?" He smiled, less maniac and more tired, but more sincere. |
| "Well," he drawled, "I can name a few people I've listened to - on occasion. Anything approaching consistently is another story." Alastair, more then any other human. Sarah Jane, who he wished he'd listened to on Skaro. Romana, whose cheeful sensibility he missed terribly. The Master - but that was more like a string of endless compromises. |
| "As long as you don't make it a habit." He was just refusing to take it seriously, again. Or trying to. he was actually failing, pretty seriously. |
| "Me? Never!," he scoffed a bit, "Where would the universe be if I did? I shudder to think," he teased. Well, he was mostly teasing. |
| "Where would your universe be?" He asked, curious about. this version of himself, more than he wanted to admit. |
| "Well, overrun by Daleks for one. But I gather that's true for your universe, too?" He looked questioningly at the other. "And the Master was trying to talk me out that particular manuveur up until just about the last second, let me tell you. He was pretty sure we could come up with something less likely to kill, well, everyone - including us. The probably killing us part especially bothered him, as you might imagine. But I went ahead. Better to make sure the Daleks were gone for good." |
| He grinned quickly at the question about the Daleks. Because that was true. "You don't sound particularly bothered." |
| "If I had any doubts about whether it had to be done, I wouldn't have done it. I'm not going to spend centuries beating myself up about it when there's so much *work* to do." He had a sneaking suspicion he'd been right about the emotional self-flagellation. |
| "So much work to do? What kind of work?" |
| "Fix all sorts of messes that are lying around from the war. That's going to take..oh, ages. I keep finding little rifts, time loops, left over time bombs, groups of refugees. All over the place. Defend the Earth - they seem to have an invasion about about every week, in my universe, dunno about yours. Finally got UNIT and Torchwood to stop bickering over who had jurisdiction where - that nearly doomed the planet a few times. Although that was mostly the Master, turning up the charm to 11, and backing it up by making massive amounts of redundant red tape for everyone involved sound truly frightening. That was fun to watch..." He eventually paused for breath. |
| "Ahhh so you're tracking down all sorts of things that don't actually matter, so you can feel important and useful. Got it." |
| "Well, there's no one else left to do it, is there? No CIA, no High Council." He demanded with a little more anger then he meant to. "I should just leave these things be, let people who don't know how to handle them stumble across them? Is that your solution? If I'd done what I supposed to on Skaro, there never would have been a war, not like there was, so." He broke off for a moment. "So, it's my responsibility," he finished firmly. |
| "Anything to give yourself purpose, rather than rattling around with no one but the Master and your guilt to keep you company?" |
| "I think you're projecting a little bit there, but even if that's so - somehow I think that's working out better for me then ooh, I dunno...running way all the time?" |
| "I don't run away all the time." |
| "You do that's not exactly a strong come back line, right?" He thought he'd pretty much proved his point. |
| "I've stayed when it really mattered, thankyouverymuch." |
| "I'll take your word for it," he said smoothly. In a way that may have, just maybe, picked from the Master. |
| Both of his eyebrows shot up and he actually walked forward. "How mad are you?" |
| "I'm sorry, what?" He wasn't sure why his double had suddenly decided to move closer to him. |
| He cocked his head, and didn't really explain himself. In truth, he didn't know why, either. It was probably the smoothness. Similarity to the Master. Something. "How insane are you?" |
| He stared in astonishment. "That's sort of an absurd question, isn't it? Either I'm not mad, and I'll say I'm not mad. Or if I'm quite insane, I'll think I'm not and still say I'm not mad, won't I? But you seem to be honestly asking, so I'll admit I've been quite mad - hence the deathwish I had going for a while. But that was a couple of regenerations ago, and I got over that, thanks." |
| He laughed, a little. "It's not an absurd question. You'd be surprised how many absolute lunatics will cheerfully admit they're lunatics. You've even fucked one of them." |
| "Well, I didn't actually ask him if he thought he was crazy. And I remember the Master usually insisting that I was crazy one, back when he was crazy. So, again, I'll take your word for it." |
| He rubbed his eyes and turned back toward the street. "Or don't. Doesn't matter. I'm going to go see if this place is finished killing my TARDIS, yet." |
| "Suit yourself." He shrugged. He was trying not to worry too much about the bit about dying TARDISes. Maybe he should go pay her a visit. |
| He waved, vaguely, and headed off. He stopped before he was too far gone, turned back and called back, "Thanks." Then he turned around and really left. |