pawnofrassilon | For Eileen <3<3

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For Eileen <3<3

On a cold spring evening in Wiltshire, in the year 2011, a man falls to Earth.

Some children look up and think they see a shooting star that night. Adults, knowing that whatever it is is far too large, think it might be a comet or meteor. Or else they assume it's a trick of the eyes, an afterimage of a headlamp on the road. Some, oddly enough, think of angels. News reports are non-definitive.

Much like the film, the man isn't quite a 'man' at all-- not by the twenty-first century Earth definition, anyhow. He's alien, though it's only by the doubling of his pulses and the nature of his abrupt appearance in the first place that any human could tell.

Unlike the film, he isn't particularly concerned with saving his home world. Not anymore.

The Master lies very still for a long time, heedless of the fact he's crumpled up in the middle of an open field. He's fallen quite a distance, even for a Time Lord. And many of his injuries are much, much older than that. His clothes are little more than rags, torn to shreds and singed to the point of near purposelessness. If it's even possible, he's dirtier than ever. Exhausted. Parched. Hungry. So hungry.

Eventually it's the hunger that gets him up and keeps him moving. Feeling the click and slide of bones that are likely dislocated if not broken, the Master struggles to his feet, heaving and wincing in pain, his skin becoming momentarily translucent with the effort. He's in trouble, his energy stores dangerously low and his body in real danger of being ripped apart. But it's nothing a little snack won't fix. Taking a great whiff of the night air, he cracks a grin just short of sanity... and lets his nose lead him staggering through the darkness.

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"Now," crows Rassilon, daring to step closer now that the Master's surrounded, one of the Time Lord guards beginning to slip a pair of the cuffs onto him.

Really, that's his first mistake, and that's why they never get to hear the meat of that no doubt lofty speech. The Master strikes out with both arms, quick as a wink, sending the guards flying away from him in all directions in an electric blaze of energy. With a grin, he clambers to his feet, sparking in anticipation, to face Rassilon. There's little trace of that fear and defeat in his bearing now.

"I believe you have our positions confused," he growls through his teeth.

The guards who had been holding Rose release her to attack the Master, and she staggers back, looking around. She catches sight of a lead pipe leaning in a corner, and grabs it. With all her strength, she brings it down on Rassilon's head.

Rassilon smirks in return and merely, lazily, raises his gloved hand. The Master blanches. Does he ever take that thing off?

Rose's little act of rebellion comes as a surprise to them both, Rassilon emitting an undignified croak and collapsing to hands and knees, and the Master sliding the human another look, this time a little impressed in addition to the bewilderment.

And then the guards are upon him, no longer wasting time with the cuffs. Instead, one of them swings his weapon around, clipping the Master in the temple before he can properly react, and sending him down as well.

One of the guards comes for Rose, and catches the pipe neatly as she swings it toward them. Rose whimpers out a cry as the Time Lord wrenches it from her hands, and backs up against some shelving as he levels his weapon at her.

The Master lies still on the ground as the guards wrench his hands behind his back and apply the energy dampening cuffs.

Rassilon, meanwhile, is picking himself up with a groan, hand to the back of his head. When he rounds on Rose, it turns to a snarl.

"You," he growls. "You think you can take on a Time Lord? I should kill you where you stand."

"Go on, then," Rose says, her expression weary, worn, but unafraid. "I'd rather be dead than be a slave to the likes of you."

Rassilon's temper is great enough that he's completely prepared to do it in that moment. He flares his nostrils and raises the glove... and then stops, temporarily distracted by the sounds going on behind him. The Master is coming to, attempting to break free, and collapsing with a small, surprised grunt as all the energy is dispersed into the cuffs instead. He rolls to one side slowly, glaring at Rassilon as he tries to catch his breath.

Rassilon chuckles. "I told you to stay on your knees," he says, turning his attention fully to the other Time Lord.

"You never did accept your place in things. 'Lord Master' indeed," he snorts. "But no matter. You're a blemish on our society, a sickness that must be eradicated. We can't break the link by killing you; that would create an unwanted paradox. But we can offer you the eternal punishment you tried to escape."

He raises the glove again, and the Master struggles more frantically. To no avail; the glove glows bright white, and the Master begins to writhe, screaming and sobbing in pain.

Rose looks around wildly, sure there must be something, somewhere, that can help them, but the only thing she can see is a teleport device on a wristband, much like Jack's. They had found it after an anomalous burst of energy from the Rift, but had yet to test it.

It was getting a test now.

The guards were all focused on the Master, sneering at him as he got his comeuppance. Rose took the opportunity to grab the wristband and slip it on. She took a deep breath, then leaped on the Master, throwing her arms around his prone figure as she activated the device.

The Master, curled up in a whimpering ball, makes no indication he's even noticed Rose's arms around him. But he does notice the end of that pain, sharply cut off-- and then a sudden, second wave of disorientation. They've been transported, somewhere, somewhen... by what must have been an awfully crude device.

For a single, terrified moment, he's sure they've been taken back to Gallifrey.

The Master struggles frantically, blindly out of Rose's grasp before he dares to lift his head, peering around. The two of them are sprawled on a vast, green expanse. Grass. Sort of. There are four moons in the sky, crowding the stars and throwing an unnerving amount of light down on them. It reminds him of a spotlight. Wherever this place is, he knows it's old, nearly as old as Gallifrey.

Rose, unfortunately, is quite human, and without a Time Lord's constitution the disorientation of the trip has her stunned. As the Master shoves her aside she rolls over and stares unseeing at the strange sky. It's a few moments before she blinks, struggles to her hands and knees, and retches miserably into the grass.

His head whips around at the sound of someone vomiting, focuses on Rose for the first time.

"You," he hisses. "This is all your fault!" It probably isn't quite as grateful a response as she hoped.

"You led them straight to me." He'd grab her by the shoulders and shake her, hard, despite the retching-- if he didn't still have the cuffs on.

Rose spits into the grass, then fixes the Master with a look.

"Oi," she near growls. "They followed you to my world, and my base, and killed my people, and you think they wouldn't have eventually found you? How thick are you, anyway? Would you rather I have left you there?"

She stands up shakily, and backs away, looking around at their surroundings.

"Where are we, anyway?"

"How should I know?" the Master snaps back bitterly. The thing is, he doesn't know, and that bothers him nearly as much as the fact that he's cuffed and helpless on an alien planet.

He wriggles pathetically in the grass, trying to get to his feet and only ending up dumping more energy into his bindings.

Rose looks down at him, biting her lip. If she let him go, he would likely either run or hurt her (maybe eat her). It seemed a better plan to keep him cuffed. So she leaned down and with both hands on one of his arms pulled up to lift him to his feet.

The Master allows Rose to help him up, but as soon as he's found his feet he shrugs off her grip, hissing in disdain and backing away.

Now that he's more mobile, the Master takes a better look around. Far off in the distance are some faint lights-- a city, perhaps. He sniffs the air, speculatively, and even with his hands bound behind his back he has a hungry, predatory leer on his face.

Rose rolls her eyes as he backs away.

"Fine," she says. "You want me to go? Brilliant. I saved you from the Time Lords... you're on your own. Good luck."

With that she started walking toward the lights of the city.

He stands and watches her go for about five seconds before starting after her, his feet tripping themselves up in his utter exhaustion. Any extra energy has been swallowed up by the cuffs.

"Where do you think you're going?" he protests. "You can't leave me like this!"

Rose turns around, and regards him. Two inclinations are warring inside her. One is the hardness that has settled into her by necessity after her time with the Doctor, the hardness that has kept her alive and mostly sane in the face of dealing with deadly situations without the Doctor's aid. The other is what the Doctor has taught her - that everyone deserves a chance.

To what degree has the Master used up that chance already?

Finally, she sighs.

"All right." She goes to him and takes his upper arm. "I'll take you to the city. Then you're on your own."

There's no way in hell she's taking those cuffs off.

By the time they reach the outskirts of the city, the Master's in poor shape. His previous reluctance to be touched has given way to almost complete reliance on Rose to keep him upright. He leans heavily on her, neck drooping and his breath coming in small wheezes. But when the first signs of civilization become apparent-- some sort of habitations, by the looks of them, constructed of an opaque white substance that could possibly be organic-- he perks up a bit, smelling food that's tantalizingly close.

"Uncuff me," he demands, straining weakly against her grasp.

He seems so drained, so harmless. But Rose knows that he's still a danger, if not to her then to whoever lives in this place. Slowly, she shakes her head.

"No. I'm responsible for you, at least until I can hand you off to someone else."

With that she tightens her grip and keeps walking.

The Master winces, nearly a whine, as her grip tightens. Then he snarls, indignant and full of fury. Hand him off? The Master refuses to be kept by anyone.

"No." He pulls back, hard. Actually, he starts to pull back, but the cuffs don't let him get much further than that, and he falls the rest of the way, letting gravity do the work for him.

"No, don't," she says, not wanting him to hurt himself, but she's only strong enough herself to ease his fall. She stands and looks down at the Master, her internal conflict clear on her face.

"What am I to do?" she wonders aloud, half to herself, half to the captive Master. "After everything you've done, how am I to trust you? Why shouldn't I just leave you here, cuffs and all?"

"They'll find me," the Master gasps, trying vainly to right himself. "They'll never stop looking." And then he murmurs a word into the grass, nearly a whisper.

That word is "Please."

A woman's gasp is audible, somewhere close by, and the Master turns his head to the side to see, eyes suddenly alert and hungry.

The girl steps out from the shadows, holding a dim lantern and creeping uncertainly forward. But she doesn't look frightened. No, she looks awed. The Master blinks, irritated, as she shines the light directly into his eyes.

"It's you," she breathes. "Oh, they said you'd come!"

Rose's heart aches for the Master, it really does, but she's still wrestling with what to do when the girl appears. Rose holds up a hand to shield her own eyes, trying to make out the features of the lantern bearer.

"They? Who's they?"

The girl doesn't even spare Rose a glance at first, transfixed as she is by the Master. Even in his less-than-dignified sprawl.

"The Seerlings will be so pleased," she tells him, just keeping a respectful distance. It seems she's barely able to contain herself. "Wait here." The girl finally lifts her head to acknowledge Rose in that order. And then she realizes she's made an order and blushes.

"I-I'm sorry. Please, I'll get the others. It'll only be a moment."

And with that the girl rushes off back toward the city, without leaving either of them much of a chance to get a word in edgewise.

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a-lost-wolf.livejournal.com - 2011-10-24 18:14 (UTC) - Expand

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syncopath - 2011-10-26 09:54 (UTC) - Expand

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