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Fic: A Good Day (or: The War in the Medusa Cascade). Chapter 3
For new friends/random strangers: I have a vast AU 'verse about the Master's son (an OC, obviously, born during The Year That Never Was). This is the latest installment - a total re-write of The Stolen Earth/Journey's End. (No really, I'm so far from canon that pretty much the only things that are staying the same are Davros & the Daleks. And it's the only canon story I've ever adapted. It's an interesting process.) If you're curious and want to have a look, there's no need to read the previous stories - this (like all the other stories) is designed to stand alone if need be. Beginning here: Prologue. And Master post for the whole 'verse here.
(Mostly then I can't believe I'm actually posting this chapter. It ends on a cliffhanger I've had planned since 2008!)
Summary: "Why is it only ever the bad guys who have a proper plan?" The Master's son finally meets the Daleks. And he thought it a good day. (TSE/JE rewrite with Eleven and Clara and a host of extras.)
Setting: Future AU TSE/JE.
Spoilers: The Name of the Doctor (S7.13)
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: The Seeker (OC, the Master's son), Eleventh Doctor, Clara, the Master, Jack, River, Roda (OC), Davros, others.
Beta: The always lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh.
Thank yous: Tothe_redjay for the loan of Roda.
Feedback: Pretty please? I'm very curious to see what you think.
Chapter 3
The Doctor fell to his knees, hands flat against the floor where the trap door had closed again and his TARDIS vanished:
“What have you done? Where's it going?”
The large red Dalek behind them answered.
“The Crucible has a heart of Z-neutrino energy. The TARDIS will be deposited into the core.”
Jumping back onto his feet, he turned, aghast.
“You can't. You've taken the defences down. It'll be torn apart... Please. Please. I'm begging you...”
The red Dalek stayed immovable and merely continued speaking, its voice almost cruel.
“You are connected to the TARDIS. Now feel it die.”
He wanted to say that there was someone still inside, but revealing who would not do any good. He could sense the TARDIS consciousness screaming, heard the briefest of mental cries from his oldest friend (“What the ever loving f-”), but the Daleks were counting down, rel by rel, as he could only stand there, helpless, unable to comprehend what was happening.
And then there was only silence. Terrible, terrible silence.
The red Dalek spoke again.
“The TARDIS has been destroyed. Now tell me, Doctor. What do you feel? Anger? Sorrow? Despair?”
Hands curled into fists, eyes blurring, he didn’t reply.
“But if emotions are so important, surely we have enhanced you?” the red Dalek continued.
His chest was too tight by far, and he felt Clara’s hand unfurling his own and taking hold of it as if in a dream.
“I’ve been ‘enhanced’ quite enough these past few years,” he eventually said, unable to keep the rancour out of his voice.
“I’m so sorry, Doctor,” the Seeker murmured softly, and the Doctor closed his eyes, trying to regain focus. The boy had lost his father...
“Seeker...” he began, but the young Time Lord shook his head, face expressionless.
“Not now.”
Grateful that he needn’t try to find words he knew he wouldn’t be able to say, he tried to merely stay in the present.
(One part of his mind was still ticking over, telling him that this couldn’t happen, he’d stood in the TARDIS when it was his tomb, but he knew better than anyone how time could be rewritten and refashioned into a new shape...)
The red Dalek spoke once more: “Escort them to the Vault. They are the playthings of Davros now.”
The name made him almost stop in his tracks, the sheer shock of the name causing his mind to reboot.
“Did you say... Davros?”
A Dalek poked him in the back and he forced his legs to work, even as he heard the Seeker’s sharp intake of breath.
“Doctor - you were right.”
They emerged into a strangely cavernous, red-lit place, reminding the Doctor of the Dalek Asylum in feeling... But at the heart of this Dalek web there would not be a Soufflé Girl, aiding and abetting. Only an ancient madman who should have been dead long, long ago.
Yet despite the Doctor’s misgivings, Davros did indeed appear, gliding out of the shadows, the Dalek casing around his lower body moving soundlessly. The closed hollows of his eyes and his ashen, deeply lined face were unchanged, as if they’d met yesterday. The Doctor almost felt vertiginous. Of all the impossible things to happen today...
“You have the face of a child, and yet its arrogance is unchanged. Welcome to my new Empire, Doctor. It is only fitting that you should bear witness to the resurrection and the triumph of Davros, lord and creator of the Dalek race.”
The voice was the same also. That clipped, almost staccato inflection that was mirrored in the Daleks...
Belatedly remembering to check on Clara, he turned to his right, and saw that she was speechlessly horrified. Whereas the Seeker - on the far side of Clara - was studying Davros with a look that was pure fascination. But then he’d grown up with the stories... He didn’t see the desiccated body, but the whole legacy. And was probably focussing on the difficulties in front of them in order not to think of his own loss - a coping mechanism he’d developed at far too young an age.
The Doctor briefly closed his eyes. He should probably take a leaf out of the youngster’s book... Not allow himself to dwell on the recent loss, nor the long history he shared with Davros. No, looking back would not help at all... Focus on the present, find out what was happening now, that was the key.
While he was still trying to take stock of the situation (counting exits and operating stations and the very low number of Dalek guards), Davros lifted his only hand.
“Activate the holding cells.”
Bright spotlights suddenly beamed down, power fields instantly encompassing them. The Seeker experimentally reached out and touched the field, causing bright white light to shimmer around him. He seemed oddly unconcerned, but the Doctor wasn’t really paying attention. Most of his still half-formed plans had been ruled out in a single swoop.
“Excellent,” Davros rasped. “Even when powerless, a Time Lord is best contained.”
Finally the Doctor found his voice. He had to keep Davros talking - he would want to revel in his victory, and would hopefully give something away. Adjusting his bow tie, he did his best to look his ancient enemy in the eye.
“I don't understand - you were destroyed. In the very first year of the Time War, at the Gates of Elysium. I saw your command ship fly into the jaws of the Nightmare Child. I tried to save you.”
The Seeker spluttered.
“You tried to- what is wrong with you?”
Davros ignored the interruption.
“It took one stronger than you to save me. Dalek Caan himself.”
Another spotlight now shone, focussing on an exposed Dalek, residing in a shell of armour, and it chilled the Doctor to realise it was the same Dalek he had met so many centuries before - Rose, and later Martha, by his side. He had offered compassion. Caan had chosen to run.
And then it spoke, its voice lilting like a mad man’s, with a strange ebb and flow, as if liquid.
“I flew into the wild and fire. I danced and died a thousand times.”
Davros expounded, clearly relishing the story:
“Emergency Temporal Shift took him back into the Time War itself.”
The Doctor felt as if the ground beneath his feet was shifting.
“But that's impossible. The entire War is time locked.”
(His words sounded feeble, even to his own ears. Something got in... And something got out. The proof was right in front of him.)
Yet Davros smiled, and the Doctor, out of the corner of his eye, saw Clara wrap her arms around herself.
“And yet he succeeded. Oh, it cost him his mind, but imagine. A single, simple Dalek succeeded where Emperors and Time Lords have failed. A testament, don't you think, to my remarkable creations?"
The Doctor nodded slowly, adding up what he’d seen so far. There were none of the Daleks created from the Progenitor, nothing to suggest that they knew there had been other survivors. No, this lot was hidden away, out of sync with the rest of the universe - with their own purpose. And Davros was at the heart of it all.
“And you created a new race of Daleks.”
“I gave myself to them, quite literally. Each one grown from a cell of my own body.”
With difficulty, his single functioning hand struggling to unfasten the catches of his tunic, Davros slowly revealed a section of his torso... Instead of skin, they saw bare ribs covered with only a few nerve endings, his internal organs exposed and visible.
(I thought you'd run out of ways to make me sick. Hello again.)
Clara looked like she had onboard the Russian sub after Skaldak had ‘dissected’ the sailors - pale and withdrawn, clearly wishing herself a million miles away. The Seeker on the other hand was clearly still captivated, not at all put off by the unpleasantness of the view. But then he’d always been a scientist above all else.
“New Daleks. True Daleks. I have my children, Doctor. What do you have, now? Apart from these two youngsters beside you - so lost, so helpless. What have you given them? Or is it maybe the other way round - you do not give, you only take.”
He should say something. Except he wasn’t sure what. This was usually the point where he would be taking control of the conversation, thinking of a way out - but he seemed paralysed, the recent loss making him unable to focus despite his best efforts, every possible plan falling apart at the lack of a TARDIS. And Davros was in a terribly chatty mood, which was backfiring rather badly.
“The girl beside you, the Impossible Girl - Dalek Caan has seen her. Dying for you, over and over and over again, her echoes all across time and space. And the boy - the orphan boy, the last child of Gallifrey, born without a home and a people.”
A grimace, that might be a smile - it was hard to tell.
“It is fitting that you look so young, Doctor, you surround yourself with children. Youngsters doomed, because of you. They all die, don’t they Doctor? Again and again they die for you. And you cannot save them. You could say that they die at your hand... Like your own people did, down to the last infant.”
If there was a way to respond, the Doctor couldn’t find it. He knew that in a moment Clara would jump to his defence, proudly declaring that he was worth dying for... Not realising how her words would only hurt him further.
But it was the Seeker who spoke, voice coldly disdainful.
“Are we supposed be shocked? He’s a hero.”
The words held so much scorn that Clara was clearly taken aback, finally speaking:
“What do you mean?”
The Seeker tilted his head.
“You don’t know what the definition of a hero is? It's someone who gets people killed.”
Taking in the look on Clara’s face, his demeanour softened.
“My father was an evil, psychotic megalomaniac who liked to kill people for fun. He and the Doctor played the moral blame-game my whole life, usually with me in the middle. I stopped listening a long, long time ago. You’d be hard pressed to find any finer points of the ethics of genocide that they haven’t debated to death.”
Clara seemed confused, but the words had been exactly what the Doctor needed. He’d been unprepared for the arrows in Davros’ quiver, but he’d not spent centuries trying to contain a madman without finding ways to manage him. Threading his fingers together, he studied Davros carefully.
“The boy has a point. So why are we here? Is there a plan beyond just trying to list my sins? Seems a little petty.”
“You must be here. It was foretold. Even the Supreme Dalek would not dare to contradict the prophecies of Dalek Caan. He saw time. Its infinite complexity and majesty, raging through his mind. And he saw you. All of you.”
“This I have foreseen, in the wild and the wind,” Dalek Caan rambled, tentacles waving. “The Doctor will be here as witness, at the end of everything. The Doctor and his precious companions.”
Davros tapped his fingers, the metal strips on his digits clacking on the controls in front of him.
“Yes, the ending approaches. The testing begins.”
“Testing of what? My patience?” the Doctor asked, beginning to feel very greatly annoyed at all the waffle.
“The Reality bomb.”
At this, they heard the voice of the red Dalek once again. The ‘Supreme’ Dalek Davros had called it... And if Davros was stuck down here, it meant that he wasn’t really in charge, didn’t it? They were essentially a diversion, keeping Davros occupied while the Daleks themselves got on with whatever scheme they had planned. Some ‘children’ they were. Took what they needed, left their creator behind. He tucked the insight away in case it might come in handy later - undermining confidence at a crucial point could be useful.
“Testing calibration of Reality bomb. Firing in ten rels. Nine, eight, seven...”
A large screen appeared, showing the Medusa Cascade outside the Crucible. Another screen showed a group of humans, frightened and unsure, locked in a fortified room.
“Activate planetary alignment field,” the Supreme Dalek’s voice rang out, and, as it spoke, the planets began to glow. The Doctor slowly - as if in a dream - forced his mind to process what he was witnessing, putting together all the different parts of information he possessed.
“That's... Z-neutrino energy, flattened by the alignment of the planets into a single string. Davros - have you completely lost your mind?”
He watched, helplessly, palms pressed to the side of the holding cell, as the captured humans on the screen opened their mouths to scream, yet before they could make a sound the very fabric of their bodies was torn apart into nothing.
(He remembered Rory turning to dust, Amy’s tearful resolve. ‘This is the dream.’ If only he could wake up from this nightmare...)
“Doctor... Please... What happened?”
It was Clara, wide-eyed and alarmed. The Seeker had folded his arms, silent and unmoving, eyes fixed on the screens, and the Doctor was still shell-shocked, so it was Davros who answered her question.
“Electrical energy, Impossible Girl. Every atom in existence is bound by an electrical field. The Reality bomb cancels it out. Structure falls apart. That test was focused on the prisoners alone. Full transmission will dissolve every form of matter.”
The Doctor felt his features harden, watching his old, old enemy with new levels of hate:
“The twenty seven planets. They become one vast transmitter, blasting that wavelength.”
Davros nodded.
“Across the entire universe. Never stopping, never faltering, never fading. People and planets and stars will become dust, and the dust will become atoms, and the atoms will become nothing. And the wavelength will continue, breaking through the Rift at the heart of the Medusa Cascade into every dimension, every parallel, every single corner of creation. This is my ultimate victory, Doctor! The destruction of reality itself!”
The Seeker shifted, and the Doctor turned to see what he thought. But the youngster was merely shaking his head, not speaking or offering any kind of insight into what was going on in his head. There was something downright casual about his attitude that felt... wrong. Where had the anger gone, the pain of witnessing the death of innocent victims? If nothing else the Doctor expected frustration over the situation, or an acknowledgement that the Seeker was ready to help. Something. For one single moment he allowed himself to wish for River - River whom he had always been able to rely on, who’d grasped his plans instantly and had been able to improvise when he faltered...
Before the Doctor could say anything, the Supreme Dalek’s voice boomed out once more:
“Prepare for universal detonation. The fleet will gather at the Crucible. All Daleks will return to shelter from the cataclysm. We will become the only life forms in existence.”
Think, think, think! Everything was happening much too fast, and he felt old and slow.
At that moment a screen unfurled again, and Jack’s face appeared.
“Captain Jack Harkness, calling all Dalek boys and girls. Are you receiving me?”
The Doctor nearly folded over in relief. Jack. How had he forgotten Jack?
Davros didn’t seem the least bothered however, merely smiling that unpleasant smile he excelled at.
“It begins, as Dalek Caan foretold: The Warriors assemble. Captain - please state your intent.”
Jack continued, unaffected by the sneer in Davros’s voice.
“Don't send in your goons, or I'll set this thing off. I've got a Warp Star wired into the mainframe - I break this shell, the entire Crucible goes up.”
The Seeker - finally showing emotion - was covering his mouth in mute horror, as the Doctor gasped.
“You can't! Where did you get a Warp Star?”
Jack smiled, the softness at odds with the seriousness of the situation.
“Sarah Jane gave it to me once. For a day like today.”
The Seeker lowered his hands, eyes furious. He seemed to be properly engaging with the unfolding events for the first time since they’d been captured, for which the Doctor was silently grateful.
“I’m pretty sure she didn’t tell you to use it in the single most stupid way you possibly could. Jack I swear, if we come out of this alive, I’ll kill you!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jack replied, lifting an eyebrow, but before the Doctor could process this, another screen appeared, and the Doctor felt sure his hearts stopped for several seconds. Maybe time itself stopped, he didn’t know.
“Hello Sweetie,” she said, and the world might already have ceased existing.
“How... where...” he finally managed, not sure whether to curse or bless this unexpected time blip.
She smirked confidently, curls practically dancing, and for one endless moment he felt like telling Davros to just go ahead, blow up the universe. As long as he could keep her...
“I’m on the lost Moon of Poosh,” she replied, unaware of - or ignoring - his inner turmoil.
“But it’s lost,” the Seeker said, head tilted, eyes now curious and alert.
(Maybe he’d been in shock. Which wasn’t surprising, everything considered.)
“Which is why I thought it would be an interesting project! As I’m sure you’re aware, Poosh has some fascinating ancient civilisations, the greatest one situated on this moon. So I calculated the precise date of the disappearance, got hold of a grant and a digging licence and set off on an expedition. It’s been rather brilliant to be honest... Seeker, you have an academic mind: I’ve saved all my findings and research onto the home box. If I don’t make it out alive, please make sure it gets to Luna University?”
“Of course River,” he answered gravely, and she beamed back.
“Thank you, dear. Now, Daleks... I’m presuming you need these twenty seven planets for something nefarious. Not too bothered, except a) you’ve taken my husband hostage, and b) he gets very, very upset if anyone tries to harm the universe. No really, I tried once, and he got ever so cross. So, in short, I’ve rigged up the engines of my ship into a neat little explosive device, which I’ve patched into integral fault lines of this moon and - after a little bit of jiggery-pokery - all I need to do is touch this lever here and your twenty seven planets become twenty six.”
Timelines were fracturing and falling apart all around him, and he felt the scant hold he’d had on reality since the destruction of the TARDIS was slipping out of his hands. If she died now...
“River, no! You can’t-”
“Hush, my Love. I’m saving the world. Be proud.”
(He’d said his goodbyes, had laid everything to rest. She slept in his mind now, like everyone else he had lost... He couldn’t do this.)
Clara was smiling, however.
“Doctor... They have leverage.”
It didn’t help. Davros didn’t appear in the least concerned - who knew what the insane Dalek had told him? A prophetic Dalek... To just what degree was Davros ahead of the curve?
Then a third screen flickered to life, and Davros nodded to himself.
“In threes they come, like Dalek Caan foretold - the Doctor’s Warriors. The Man Who Cannot Die, The Woman Who Married the Doctor and... The Exile.”
And indeed, it was Roda’s face that appeared, and in her eyes the Doctor saw that which they usually both kept hidden and never spoke of. The marks the Time War had left on them, the terror and pain tucked away where no one could see... Yet now visible, blazing out from the screen.
"Hello Daleks.”
Unlike Jack or River she didn’t smile, instead merely studying Davros with such intense hatred that the Master would surely have felt jealous.
“Apologies for dropping in unannounced. But I saw your ships and remembered I had this... Well, it’s nothing really. Just a toy I never got to return, after the War. Funny how having no planet and - as such - no barracks to go back to works out, isn't it? Especially if the War just won't bloody die...!”
She pulled back a little and the Doctor saw the ‘toy’ she was talking about, inhaling sharply at the sight. She continued, unaffected.
“I am well aware that activating it will kill me, but it’ll destroy you too, so it’s a price I am more than willing to pay. After all, my survival was nothing more than a fluke, it seems fitting I should end the war for good...”
“Roda - wait!”
Everything was wrong. There was no panic, no worry, Davros knew what was going to happen, it wouldn’t work-
And indeed, at that moment, the Supreme Dalek’s voice rang out again. It was clearly monitoring them, allowing Davros his moment of revenge, toying with them, but stepping in if anything got out of hand...
“Enough. Engage defence zero five.”
Another Dalek voice: “Transmat engaged.”
A fraction of a second later, his three warriors were standing beside him, slightly disoriented from the swift change in location.
“Don't move, all of you. Stay still,” he said, instinctively reaching out for River, but the force field got in the way.
“Guard them! On your knees, all of you. Surrender!”
It was Davros again, and - one after the other - they fell to their knees. Within moments they were encased in holding cells, and something that had to be blind panic was beginning to descend in the Doctor’s mind. By now he should be at least halfway through enacting a plan - at the very least he should have a plan, not still be stuck on ‘I can’t get out’.
Roda’s stance was that same combination of suppressed fury and unbowed resilience, even in the face of defeat, which he remembered so well from the Valiant; River was studying the room, clearly counting exits and operating stations and the very low number of Dalek guards - and Jack had turned to say hello, but faltered when he laid eyes on Clara.
“But... She just died. I was there. How...”
The Doctor opened his mouth to say ‘I’ll explain later’ - except there might not be a later.
Instead he shook his head and said “It’s complicated”, and then Davros spoke again.
“The final prophecy is in place,” he said, with relish. “The Doctor is here as witness, with the children he cannot save, and his warrior friends who fail. Watch him suffer! Supreme Dalek, the time has come. Now, detonate the Reality bomb!”
“Activate planetary alignment field,” the Supreme Dalek’s voice rang out. “Universal Reality detonation in two hundred rels.”
Too soon, it was too soon. He wasn’t ready, there’d not been enough time...
“Davros, listen to me! Stop, please...”
But Davros was beyond listening, or reason.
“Nothing can stop the detonation. Nothing and no one!”
The gloating turned into a full manic laugh, and with terrible finality the truth sank in. This was the end. He’d finally run out of luck - he’d lost, and the universe was lost. But then he’d been living off borrowed time for so very long...
He turned to River, impossibly grateful that she was here. Even though he could read the hope in her eyes, the belief that he could still save the day - knew she was ready for his cue, when all he could do was shake his head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she accepted the reality of the situation without so much as blinking. (He daren’t look at Clara, see her faith crumble. She couldn’t save him this time.)
“We had a good run, Sweetie,” River whispered gently; but, as he allowed himself one final gaze into his wife’s eyes, he was interrupted by the Seeker suddenly speaking:
“And... I believe that’s my cue. ‘Nothing and no one?’ I would like to challenge that. Your little pet seer has been lying to you, Davros - lying its little head off. It’s all about names, you see. I’m no poor little lost orphan, helpless and doomed without the good Doctor here. Please. I’d be insulted, if it hadn’t come in so useful. But time is running short, so I should probably introduce myself properly...”
Lifting his chin he smiled, a smile that caught the Doctor off guard: it was pure Saxon - superior, arrogant, self-assured; cold.
“I am the Seeker, son of the Master. And these-” he held up his hands, palms open, “-are my friends.”
And, out of the thin air above his head, four Toclafane appeared.
To be continued...
(Mostly then I can't believe I'm actually posting this chapter. It ends on a cliffhanger I've had planned since 2008!)
Summary: "Why is it only ever the bad guys who have a proper plan?" The Master's son finally meets the Daleks. And he thought it a good day. (TSE/JE rewrite with Eleven and Clara and a host of extras.)
Setting: Future AU TSE/JE.
Spoilers: The Name of the Doctor (S7.13)
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: The Seeker (OC, the Master's son), Eleventh Doctor, Clara, the Master, Jack, River, Roda (OC), Davros, others.
Beta: The always lovely
kathyh.Thank yous: To
the_redjay for the loan of Roda.Feedback: Pretty please? I'm very curious to see what you think.
Chapter 3
The Doctor fell to his knees, hands flat against the floor where the trap door had closed again and his TARDIS vanished:
“What have you done? Where's it going?”
The large red Dalek behind them answered.
“The Crucible has a heart of Z-neutrino energy. The TARDIS will be deposited into the core.”
Jumping back onto his feet, he turned, aghast.
“You can't. You've taken the defences down. It'll be torn apart... Please. Please. I'm begging you...”
The red Dalek stayed immovable and merely continued speaking, its voice almost cruel.
“You are connected to the TARDIS. Now feel it die.”
He wanted to say that there was someone still inside, but revealing who would not do any good. He could sense the TARDIS consciousness screaming, heard the briefest of mental cries from his oldest friend (“What the ever loving f-”), but the Daleks were counting down, rel by rel, as he could only stand there, helpless, unable to comprehend what was happening.
And then there was only silence. Terrible, terrible silence.
The red Dalek spoke again.
“The TARDIS has been destroyed. Now tell me, Doctor. What do you feel? Anger? Sorrow? Despair?”
Hands curled into fists, eyes blurring, he didn’t reply.
“But if emotions are so important, surely we have enhanced you?” the red Dalek continued.
His chest was too tight by far, and he felt Clara’s hand unfurling his own and taking hold of it as if in a dream.
“I just wanted to say hello. Hello, Doctor. It's so very, very nice to meet you.”
Two boys, running across pastures of red grass, stretching far across the slopes of Mount Perdition, calling up at the sky. They were going to be friends forever...
How could it end like this?
‘On the day the nightmares return...’ - how bitterly true. It didn’t even help that those words, a gift from the future, indicated that somehow they’d get out of this. A future - if he had one - without his TARDIS, without his oldest friend (enemy). He couldn’t even contemplate it.
So many partings.
Amelia's Last Farewell, The Singing Towers... His quiet, lonely retreat above London, his peace shattered by another Clara, and another death. So much death - it haunted him, stalked his every step, never letting up, never letting go.
“I’ve been ‘enhanced’ quite enough these past few years,” he eventually said, unable to keep the rancour out of his voice.
“I’m so sorry, Doctor,” the Seeker murmured softly, and the Doctor closed his eyes, trying to regain focus. The boy had lost his father...
“Seeker...” he began, but the young Time Lord shook his head, face expressionless.
“Not now.”
Grateful that he needn’t try to find words he knew he wouldn’t be able to say, he tried to merely stay in the present.
(One part of his mind was still ticking over, telling him that this couldn’t happen, he’d stood in the TARDIS when it was his tomb, but he knew better than anyone how time could be rewritten and refashioned into a new shape...)
The red Dalek spoke once more: “Escort them to the Vault. They are the playthings of Davros now.”
The name made him almost stop in his tracks, the sheer shock of the name causing his mind to reboot.
“Did you say... Davros?”
A Dalek poked him in the back and he forced his legs to work, even as he heard the Seeker’s sharp intake of breath.
“Doctor - you were right.”
They emerged into a strangely cavernous, red-lit place, reminding the Doctor of the Dalek Asylum in feeling... But at the heart of this Dalek web there would not be a Soufflé Girl, aiding and abetting. Only an ancient madman who should have been dead long, long ago.
Yet despite the Doctor’s misgivings, Davros did indeed appear, gliding out of the shadows, the Dalek casing around his lower body moving soundlessly. The closed hollows of his eyes and his ashen, deeply lined face were unchanged, as if they’d met yesterday. The Doctor almost felt vertiginous. Of all the impossible things to happen today...
“You have the face of a child, and yet its arrogance is unchanged. Welcome to my new Empire, Doctor. It is only fitting that you should bear witness to the resurrection and the triumph of Davros, lord and creator of the Dalek race.”
The voice was the same also. That clipped, almost staccato inflection that was mirrored in the Daleks...
Belatedly remembering to check on Clara, he turned to his right, and saw that she was speechlessly horrified. Whereas the Seeker - on the far side of Clara - was studying Davros with a look that was pure fascination. But then he’d grown up with the stories... He didn’t see the desiccated body, but the whole legacy. And was probably focussing on the difficulties in front of them in order not to think of his own loss - a coping mechanism he’d developed at far too young an age.
The Doctor briefly closed his eyes. He should probably take a leaf out of the youngster’s book... Not allow himself to dwell on the recent loss, nor the long history he shared with Davros. No, looking back would not help at all... Focus on the present, find out what was happening now, that was the key.
While he was still trying to take stock of the situation (counting exits and operating stations and the very low number of Dalek guards), Davros lifted his only hand.
“Activate the holding cells.”
Bright spotlights suddenly beamed down, power fields instantly encompassing them. The Seeker experimentally reached out and touched the field, causing bright white light to shimmer around him. He seemed oddly unconcerned, but the Doctor wasn’t really paying attention. Most of his still half-formed plans had been ruled out in a single swoop.
“Excellent,” Davros rasped. “Even when powerless, a Time Lord is best contained.”
Finally the Doctor found his voice. He had to keep Davros talking - he would want to revel in his victory, and would hopefully give something away. Adjusting his bow tie, he did his best to look his ancient enemy in the eye.
“I don't understand - you were destroyed. In the very first year of the Time War, at the Gates of Elysium. I saw your command ship fly into the jaws of the Nightmare Child. I tried to save you.”
The Seeker spluttered.
“You tried to- what is wrong with you?”
Davros ignored the interruption.
“It took one stronger than you to save me. Dalek Caan himself.”
Another spotlight now shone, focussing on an exposed Dalek, residing in a shell of armour, and it chilled the Doctor to realise it was the same Dalek he had met so many centuries before - Rose, and later Martha, by his side. He had offered compassion. Caan had chosen to run.
And then it spoke, its voice lilting like a mad man’s, with a strange ebb and flow, as if liquid.
“I flew into the wild and fire. I danced and died a thousand times.”
Davros expounded, clearly relishing the story:
“Emergency Temporal Shift took him back into the Time War itself.”
The Doctor felt as if the ground beneath his feet was shifting.
“But that's impossible. The entire War is time locked.”
(His words sounded feeble, even to his own ears. Something got in... And something got out. The proof was right in front of him.)
Yet Davros smiled, and the Doctor, out of the corner of his eye, saw Clara wrap her arms around herself.
“And yet he succeeded. Oh, it cost him his mind, but imagine. A single, simple Dalek succeeded where Emperors and Time Lords have failed. A testament, don't you think, to my remarkable creations?"
The Doctor nodded slowly, adding up what he’d seen so far. There were none of the Daleks created from the Progenitor, nothing to suggest that they knew there had been other survivors. No, this lot was hidden away, out of sync with the rest of the universe - with their own purpose. And Davros was at the heart of it all.
“And you created a new race of Daleks.”
“I gave myself to them, quite literally. Each one grown from a cell of my own body.”
With difficulty, his single functioning hand struggling to unfasten the catches of his tunic, Davros slowly revealed a section of his torso... Instead of skin, they saw bare ribs covered with only a few nerve endings, his internal organs exposed and visible.
(I thought you'd run out of ways to make me sick. Hello again.)
Clara looked like she had onboard the Russian sub after Skaldak had ‘dissected’ the sailors - pale and withdrawn, clearly wishing herself a million miles away. The Seeker on the other hand was clearly still captivated, not at all put off by the unpleasantness of the view. But then he’d always been a scientist above all else.
“New Daleks. True Daleks. I have my children, Doctor. What do you have, now? Apart from these two youngsters beside you - so lost, so helpless. What have you given them? Or is it maybe the other way round - you do not give, you only take.”
He should say something. Except he wasn’t sure what. This was usually the point where he would be taking control of the conversation, thinking of a way out - but he seemed paralysed, the recent loss making him unable to focus despite his best efforts, every possible plan falling apart at the lack of a TARDIS. And Davros was in a terribly chatty mood, which was backfiring rather badly.
“The girl beside you, the Impossible Girl - Dalek Caan has seen her. Dying for you, over and over and over again, her echoes all across time and space. And the boy - the orphan boy, the last child of Gallifrey, born without a home and a people.”
A grimace, that might be a smile - it was hard to tell.
“It is fitting that you look so young, Doctor, you surround yourself with children. Youngsters doomed, because of you. They all die, don’t they Doctor? Again and again they die for you. And you cannot save them. You could say that they die at your hand... Like your own people did, down to the last infant.”
If there was a way to respond, the Doctor couldn’t find it. He knew that in a moment Clara would jump to his defence, proudly declaring that he was worth dying for... Not realising how her words would only hurt him further.
But it was the Seeker who spoke, voice coldly disdainful.
“Are we supposed be shocked? He’s a hero.”
The words held so much scorn that Clara was clearly taken aback, finally speaking:
“What do you mean?”
The Seeker tilted his head.
“You don’t know what the definition of a hero is? It's someone who gets people killed.”
Taking in the look on Clara’s face, his demeanour softened.
“My father was an evil, psychotic megalomaniac who liked to kill people for fun. He and the Doctor played the moral blame-game my whole life, usually with me in the middle. I stopped listening a long, long time ago. You’d be hard pressed to find any finer points of the ethics of genocide that they haven’t debated to death.”
Clara seemed confused, but the words had been exactly what the Doctor needed. He’d been unprepared for the arrows in Davros’ quiver, but he’d not spent centuries trying to contain a madman without finding ways to manage him. Threading his fingers together, he studied Davros carefully.
“The boy has a point. So why are we here? Is there a plan beyond just trying to list my sins? Seems a little petty.”
“You must be here. It was foretold. Even the Supreme Dalek would not dare to contradict the prophecies of Dalek Caan. He saw time. Its infinite complexity and majesty, raging through his mind. And he saw you. All of you.”
“This I have foreseen, in the wild and the wind,” Dalek Caan rambled, tentacles waving. “The Doctor will be here as witness, at the end of everything. The Doctor and his precious companions.”
Davros tapped his fingers, the metal strips on his digits clacking on the controls in front of him.
“Yes, the ending approaches. The testing begins.”
“Testing of what? My patience?” the Doctor asked, beginning to feel very greatly annoyed at all the waffle.
“The Reality bomb.”
At this, they heard the voice of the red Dalek once again. The ‘Supreme’ Dalek Davros had called it... And if Davros was stuck down here, it meant that he wasn’t really in charge, didn’t it? They were essentially a diversion, keeping Davros occupied while the Daleks themselves got on with whatever scheme they had planned. Some ‘children’ they were. Took what they needed, left their creator behind. He tucked the insight away in case it might come in handy later - undermining confidence at a crucial point could be useful.
“Testing calibration of Reality bomb. Firing in ten rels. Nine, eight, seven...”
A large screen appeared, showing the Medusa Cascade outside the Crucible. Another screen showed a group of humans, frightened and unsure, locked in a fortified room.
“Activate planetary alignment field,” the Supreme Dalek’s voice rang out, and, as it spoke, the planets began to glow. The Doctor slowly - as if in a dream - forced his mind to process what he was witnessing, putting together all the different parts of information he possessed.
“That's... Z-neutrino energy, flattened by the alignment of the planets into a single string. Davros - have you completely lost your mind?”
He watched, helplessly, palms pressed to the side of the holding cell, as the captured humans on the screen opened their mouths to scream, yet before they could make a sound the very fabric of their bodies was torn apart into nothing.
(He remembered Rory turning to dust, Amy’s tearful resolve. ‘This is the dream.’ If only he could wake up from this nightmare...)
“Doctor... Please... What happened?”
It was Clara, wide-eyed and alarmed. The Seeker had folded his arms, silent and unmoving, eyes fixed on the screens, and the Doctor was still shell-shocked, so it was Davros who answered her question.
“Electrical energy, Impossible Girl. Every atom in existence is bound by an electrical field. The Reality bomb cancels it out. Structure falls apart. That test was focused on the prisoners alone. Full transmission will dissolve every form of matter.”
The Doctor felt his features harden, watching his old, old enemy with new levels of hate:
“The twenty seven planets. They become one vast transmitter, blasting that wavelength.”
Davros nodded.
“Across the entire universe. Never stopping, never faltering, never fading. People and planets and stars will become dust, and the dust will become atoms, and the atoms will become nothing. And the wavelength will continue, breaking through the Rift at the heart of the Medusa Cascade into every dimension, every parallel, every single corner of creation. This is my ultimate victory, Doctor! The destruction of reality itself!”
The Seeker shifted, and the Doctor turned to see what he thought. But the youngster was merely shaking his head, not speaking or offering any kind of insight into what was going on in his head. There was something downright casual about his attitude that felt... wrong. Where had the anger gone, the pain of witnessing the death of innocent victims? If nothing else the Doctor expected frustration over the situation, or an acknowledgement that the Seeker was ready to help. Something. For one single moment he allowed himself to wish for River - River whom he had always been able to rely on, who’d grasped his plans instantly and had been able to improvise when he faltered...
Before the Doctor could say anything, the Supreme Dalek’s voice boomed out once more:
“Prepare for universal detonation. The fleet will gather at the Crucible. All Daleks will return to shelter from the cataclysm. We will become the only life forms in existence.”
Think, think, think! Everything was happening much too fast, and he felt old and slow.
At that moment a screen unfurled again, and Jack’s face appeared.
“Captain Jack Harkness, calling all Dalek boys and girls. Are you receiving me?”
The Doctor nearly folded over in relief. Jack. How had he forgotten Jack?
Davros didn’t seem the least bothered however, merely smiling that unpleasant smile he excelled at.
“It begins, as Dalek Caan foretold: The Warriors assemble. Captain - please state your intent.”
Jack continued, unaffected by the sneer in Davros’s voice.
“Don't send in your goons, or I'll set this thing off. I've got a Warp Star wired into the mainframe - I break this shell, the entire Crucible goes up.”
The Seeker - finally showing emotion - was covering his mouth in mute horror, as the Doctor gasped.
“You can't! Where did you get a Warp Star?”
Jack smiled, the softness at odds with the seriousness of the situation.
“Sarah Jane gave it to me once. For a day like today.”
The Seeker lowered his hands, eyes furious. He seemed to be properly engaging with the unfolding events for the first time since they’d been captured, for which the Doctor was silently grateful.
“I’m pretty sure she didn’t tell you to use it in the single most stupid way you possibly could. Jack I swear, if we come out of this alive, I’ll kill you!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jack replied, lifting an eyebrow, but before the Doctor could process this, another screen appeared, and the Doctor felt sure his hearts stopped for several seconds. Maybe time itself stopped, he didn’t know.
“Hello Sweetie,” she said, and the world might already have ceased existing.
“How... where...” he finally managed, not sure whether to curse or bless this unexpected time blip.
She smirked confidently, curls practically dancing, and for one endless moment he felt like telling Davros to just go ahead, blow up the universe. As long as he could keep her...
“I’m on the lost Moon of Poosh,” she replied, unaware of - or ignoring - his inner turmoil.
“But it’s lost,” the Seeker said, head tilted, eyes now curious and alert.
(Maybe he’d been in shock. Which wasn’t surprising, everything considered.)
“Which is why I thought it would be an interesting project! As I’m sure you’re aware, Poosh has some fascinating ancient civilisations, the greatest one situated on this moon. So I calculated the precise date of the disappearance, got hold of a grant and a digging licence and set off on an expedition. It’s been rather brilliant to be honest... Seeker, you have an academic mind: I’ve saved all my findings and research onto the home box. If I don’t make it out alive, please make sure it gets to Luna University?”
“Of course River,” he answered gravely, and she beamed back.
“Thank you, dear. Now, Daleks... I’m presuming you need these twenty seven planets for something nefarious. Not too bothered, except a) you’ve taken my husband hostage, and b) he gets very, very upset if anyone tries to harm the universe. No really, I tried once, and he got ever so cross. So, in short, I’ve rigged up the engines of my ship into a neat little explosive device, which I’ve patched into integral fault lines of this moon and - after a little bit of jiggery-pokery - all I need to do is touch this lever here and your twenty seven planets become twenty six.”
Timelines were fracturing and falling apart all around him, and he felt the scant hold he’d had on reality since the destruction of the TARDIS was slipping out of his hands. If she died now...
“River, no! You can’t-”
“Hush, my Love. I’m saving the world. Be proud.”
(He’d said his goodbyes, had laid everything to rest. She slept in his mind now, like everyone else he had lost... He couldn’t do this.)
Clara was smiling, however.
“Doctor... They have leverage.”
It didn’t help. Davros didn’t appear in the least concerned - who knew what the insane Dalek had told him? A prophetic Dalek... To just what degree was Davros ahead of the curve?
Then a third screen flickered to life, and Davros nodded to himself.
“In threes they come, like Dalek Caan foretold - the Doctor’s Warriors. The Man Who Cannot Die, The Woman Who Married the Doctor and... The Exile.”
And indeed, it was Roda’s face that appeared, and in her eyes the Doctor saw that which they usually both kept hidden and never spoke of. The marks the Time War had left on them, the terror and pain tucked away where no one could see... Yet now visible, blazing out from the screen.
"Hello Daleks.”
Unlike Jack or River she didn’t smile, instead merely studying Davros with such intense hatred that the Master would surely have felt jealous.
“Apologies for dropping in unannounced. But I saw your ships and remembered I had this... Well, it’s nothing really. Just a toy I never got to return, after the War. Funny how having no planet and - as such - no barracks to go back to works out, isn't it? Especially if the War just won't bloody die...!”
She pulled back a little and the Doctor saw the ‘toy’ she was talking about, inhaling sharply at the sight. She continued, unaffected.
“I am well aware that activating it will kill me, but it’ll destroy you too, so it’s a price I am more than willing to pay. After all, my survival was nothing more than a fluke, it seems fitting I should end the war for good...”
“Roda - wait!”
Everything was wrong. There was no panic, no worry, Davros knew what was going to happen, it wouldn’t work-
And indeed, at that moment, the Supreme Dalek’s voice rang out again. It was clearly monitoring them, allowing Davros his moment of revenge, toying with them, but stepping in if anything got out of hand...
“Enough. Engage defence zero five.”
Another Dalek voice: “Transmat engaged.”
A fraction of a second later, his three warriors were standing beside him, slightly disoriented from the swift change in location.
“Don't move, all of you. Stay still,” he said, instinctively reaching out for River, but the force field got in the way.
“Guard them! On your knees, all of you. Surrender!”
It was Davros again, and - one after the other - they fell to their knees. Within moments they were encased in holding cells, and something that had to be blind panic was beginning to descend in the Doctor’s mind. By now he should be at least halfway through enacting a plan - at the very least he should have a plan, not still be stuck on ‘I can’t get out’.
Roda’s stance was that same combination of suppressed fury and unbowed resilience, even in the face of defeat, which he remembered so well from the Valiant; River was studying the room, clearly counting exits and operating stations and the very low number of Dalek guards - and Jack had turned to say hello, but faltered when he laid eyes on Clara.
“But... She just died. I was there. How...”
The Doctor opened his mouth to say ‘I’ll explain later’ - except there might not be a later.
Instead he shook his head and said “It’s complicated”, and then Davros spoke again.
“The final prophecy is in place,” he said, with relish. “The Doctor is here as witness, with the children he cannot save, and his warrior friends who fail. Watch him suffer! Supreme Dalek, the time has come. Now, detonate the Reality bomb!”
“Activate planetary alignment field,” the Supreme Dalek’s voice rang out. “Universal Reality detonation in two hundred rels.”
Too soon, it was too soon. He wasn’t ready, there’d not been enough time...
“Davros, listen to me! Stop, please...”
But Davros was beyond listening, or reason.
“Nothing can stop the detonation. Nothing and no one!”
The gloating turned into a full manic laugh, and with terrible finality the truth sank in. This was the end. He’d finally run out of luck - he’d lost, and the universe was lost. But then he’d been living off borrowed time for so very long...
He turned to River, impossibly grateful that she was here. Even though he could read the hope in her eyes, the belief that he could still save the day - knew she was ready for his cue, when all he could do was shake his head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she accepted the reality of the situation without so much as blinking. (He daren’t look at Clara, see her faith crumble. She couldn’t save him this time.)
“We had a good run, Sweetie,” River whispered gently; but, as he allowed himself one final gaze into his wife’s eyes, he was interrupted by the Seeker suddenly speaking:
“And... I believe that’s my cue. ‘Nothing and no one?’ I would like to challenge that. Your little pet seer has been lying to you, Davros - lying its little head off. It’s all about names, you see. I’m no poor little lost orphan, helpless and doomed without the good Doctor here. Please. I’d be insulted, if it hadn’t come in so useful. But time is running short, so I should probably introduce myself properly...”
Lifting his chin he smiled, a smile that caught the Doctor off guard: it was pure Saxon - superior, arrogant, self-assured; cold.
“I am the Seeker, son of the Master. And these-” he held up his hands, palms open, “-are my friends.”
And, out of the thin air above his head, four Toclafane appeared.
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I died.
Thank you, thank you...
*Crawls off to whimper in happiness*
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Ohhhh, guuuuhhhhh...omg...I think I just died. I know I did. So much dripping angst and beautiful horror and helplessness - then the Seeker, finally tipping his hand and showing his power and -
Angst is great, isn't it? Esp because losing the TARDIS at this point has more impact - partly due to being in the Doctor's POV, and partly because of all the history we've had since. And then I just keep adding... Before flipping it all around. I had a field day! So glad it all worked! <3 <3 <3
Thank you, thank you...
Thank YOU!
*Crawls off to whimper in happiness*
*hugs you till you squeak*
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And that last line of dialogue...!
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It's very rewarding. (Especially now I've actually posted the thing. It was awkward to wrangle with...)
And that last line of dialogue...!
*evil grin*
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Have you literally just caught up? You are my new favourite person! ♥
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Loved River's method of getting there.
I saw your command ship fly into the jaws of the Nightmare Child. I tried to save you.”
The Seeker spluttered.
“You tried to- what is wrong with you?”
Had to laugh when I read this. Yeah. Is there anyone who didn't think that?
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All writers are evil! /universal truth
Please, please tell me that you'll be updating soon...
I promise to do my best. I have the next part all planned out (have had, since 2008!), it's finding time to write that's tricky.
Had to laugh when I read this. Yeah. Is there anyone who didn't think that?
It's brilliant being able to add these little asides. Because yes. Why would he DO that? :)
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Because he's an idiot?
Is it weird that that line never stood out to me much? I didn't think about it much until now. Yeah, of course he did . . . idiot.
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I like the way the Doctor struggled to keep focused, keep in the present and not get overwhelmed by his emotions—and the rewriting of timelines troubling and disturbing him, but he knew nothing was ever set in stone. Love the descriptions of bits that were straight from the episode—Davros' frightful appearance and Dalek Caan's ever so peculiar voice, most of all, I really could see/hear it all over again, wonderful. The Doctor's reactions were all very good also, with insight this time and not just seeing him on a screen. I liked the Doctor turning to his friends instinctively, wanting to show he was with them, and the insight on their reactions were also fascinating: Clara stricken and horrified, too right comparing it to her horror in Cold War, her withdrawing into herself; and the Doctor's being disturbed by the Seeker's apparent calm and control was also great—intellectual fascination, puzzling detachment as a coping mechanism. I loved the Doctor's sense of helplessness, his fumbling for a plan but being sidetracked by the holding cells, his trying to keep Davros talking. Of course the Seeker would be utterly shocked by the Doctor having tried to save Davros. Also loving the little bows to the extra time/added canon between your version and the episodes—Caan's appearance being so much more meaningful somehow because he was facing him again after so very long, and he'd been with Rose and Martha back then; the Time War, something got in, something got out; I thought you'd run out of ways to make me sick. Never. Once more, the Doctor being so paralysed, unable to take the initiative and the upper hand in the conversation, was very striking. Noticing, reacting, but not catching the ball.
The part about the Doctor's responsibility, the children of time, was also very well handled, same dynamic as canon and yet you make it very new: Clara and the Seeker being considered as youngsters (oh, that one would backfire badly :D), the Doctor foreseeing Clara's defence of him, yet stating in the same breath that it would only hurt all the more… and the Seeker's seemingly cold, very sharply lucid response, on the contrary, was a much needed wake-up call, and that allowed him to get a grip. Perfect! Spot-on insight from the Seeker. And the Doctor could break out of the Daleks' game, the theatrics of the "testing".
I liked the way you showed the Doctor noticing the dynamic between Davros and the Daleks and putting the information aside for later use. The demonstration of the reality bomb on the humans was so striking, with Clara's horror and the Doctor being painfully reminded of the Ponds, and the Seeker oddly unmoved. All along those hints that there was something going on with him, and the Doctor's puzzlement—oh, how I loved his longing to have River with him at that moment ♥
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:D (I want it to be big. But in a completely different way to the original.)
The Doctor's shock and horror at the loss of the TARDIS and the Master were very striking—the helplessness, his begging, in vain of course, the bit of a connection he could grasp to the TARDIS' consciousness and the Master. And then silence fell.
What a lovely choice of words. But yes, being able to look inside his head (which we obviously couldn't in the episode) was a luxury.
The Doctor thinking back on everything he had lost, when the Daleks provoked him about emotions enhancing him, was also a heart-breaking part. Idris, the Master, Amy, River, Clara's countless deaths, oh.
I've re-used tons of the original lines in this, and the one about him being 'enhanced' came straight from the original. The Doctor's response, however, is all my own. He's come so far...
Clara taking his hand, of course ♥
♥
And I loved the moment with the Seeker, the Doctor trying to reach out to him, but being ever so relieved that he kept his emotions under strict control because he really couldn't deal with another's grief at the moment.
He doesn't really stop to think that being able to suppress your emotions to such an extent isn't healthy...
I like the way the Doctor struggled to keep focused, keep in the present and not get overwhelmed by his emotions—and the rewriting of timelines troubling and disturbing him, but he knew nothing was ever set in stone.
It's a weird balancing act. I had to address so many different issues all at the same time.
Love the descriptions of bits that were straight from the episode—Davros' frightful appearance and Dalek Caan's ever so peculiar voice, most of all, I really could see/hear it all over again, wonderful.
*perks up* That pleases me very much. I was worried it was too stripped-down.
The Doctor's reactions were all very good also, with insight this time and not just seeing him on a screen.
Moving that whole segment worked surprisingly well.
I liked the Doctor turning to his friends instinctively, wanting to show he was with them, and the insight on their reactions were also fascinating: Clara stricken and horrified, too right comparing it to her horror in Cold War, her withdrawing into herself; and the Doctor's being disturbed by the Seeker's apparent calm and control was also great—intellectual fascination, puzzling detachment as a coping mechanism.
Poor Clara. And I don't suppose it's spoilery to say that there was more than coping just mechanism when it came to the Seeker...
I loved the Doctor's sense of helplessness, his fumbling for a plan but being sidetracked by the holding cells, his trying to keep Davros talking.
Ten is sort of more sassy, but then the structure is different. And with everything Eleven has been through (esp his 'retirement', which was fairly recent), there is a pull towards just letting it all go. He fights it, of course, but it's there.
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It's doing just that so far!
But yes, being able to look inside his head (which we obviously couldn't in the episode) was a luxury.
Indeed :D
He doesn't really stop to think that being able to suppress your emotions to such an extent isn't healthy...
It's all too convenient at the moment. Too much to deal with.
It's a weird balancing act. I had to address so many different issues all at the same time.
Indeed, but it all worked out smoothly! ;)
*perks up* That pleases me very much. I was worried it was too stripped-down.
Not at all ^_^
Poor Clara. And I don't suppose it's spoilery to say that there was more than coping just mechanism when it came to the Seeker...
No, that was clear enough ;) I can't wait to see all there is to it…
Ten is sort of more sassy, but then the structure is different. And with everything Eleven has been through (esp his 'retirement', which was fairly recent), there is a pull towards just letting it all go. He fights it, of course, but it's there.
Definitely. All so fresh… In a way they stand at opposite points, Ten is surrounded by all of his friends and has just found Rose again… Eleven is still all aching from his losses, dazed by seeing River again, and it doesn't mean he has her back.
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Not so much 'shocked' as exasperated. ;)
Also loving the little bows to the extra time/added canon between your version and the episodes—Caan's appearance being so much more meaningful somehow because he was facing him again after so very long, and he'd been with Rose and Martha back then; the Time War, something got in, something got out
Some things just wrote themselves - all you have to do is mention what happened, people bring their own added weight.
I thought you'd run out of ways to make me sick. Never. Once more, the Doctor being so paralysed, unable to take the initiative and the upper hand in the conversation, was very striking. Noticing, reacting, but not catching the ball.
I love that line from Asylum, and it was perfect for this moment. And I also drew a lot on 'The Name of the Doctor' (and TATM, actually) where he has no agency at all and is just faltering.
The part about the Doctor's responsibility, the children of time, was also very well handled, same dynamic as canon and yet you make it very new: Clara and the Seeker being considered as youngsters (oh, that one would backfire badly :D), the Doctor foreseeing Clara's defence of him, yet stating in the same breath that it would only hurt all the more…
Thank you. I backed away from the whole 'Children of Time' and divided them up - throwing Clara & the Seeker in with all the children the Doctor has failed to save (tying it in to DotD!), and hitting different emotional buttons - am glad they still worked.
and the Seeker's seemingly cold, very sharply lucid response, on the contrary, was a much needed wake-up call, and that allowed him to get a grip. Perfect! Spot-on insight from the Seeker. And the Doctor could break out of the Daleks' game, the theatrics of the "testing".
The Seeker is pretty much allergic to any discussions about morality. Which is sometimes a good thing.
I liked the way you showed the Doctor noticing the dynamic between Davros and the Daleks and putting the information aside for later use.
In the original, the Doctor uses the insight immediately they see Davros. But here it a) didn't fit with the story, and b) Eleven is much more manipulative and secretive than Ten, so would keep that up his sleeve.
The demonstration of the reality bomb on the humans was so striking, with Clara's horror and the Doctor being painfully reminded of the Ponds, and the Seeker oddly unmoved.
It a horrible thing, but I didn't have any people *there* (like Jackie), so needed to put it across differently. And the Seeker is at this moment completely shut down emotionally, focussing only on what he needs to know. (You see it in the prologue - the deliberate distancing.)
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Quite right too! XD
I love that line from Asylum, and it was perfect for this moment.
Yes, I love it too ♥
And I also drew a lot on 'The Name of the Doctor' (and TATM, actually) where he has no agency at all and is just faltering.
This. ♥
throwing Clara & the Seeker in with all the children the Doctor has failed to save (tying it in to DotD!)
Clever you!
hitting different emotional buttons
Indeed, the separation really works… His warriors are people he has less control over but the sense of responsibility is no less strong, he knows what each of them has been through before and every time it's connected to him in some way (Roda least directly caused by him, but shared trauma, well, for what I know…). They come to fight for him and end up trapped… ♥
And the Seeker is at this moment completely shut down emotionally, focussing only on what he needs to know. (You see it in the prologue - the deliberate distancing.)
Indeed, it's a bit chilling and really fascinating.
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Jack's appearance was lovely, I smirked at his opening line—and ah, some reaction from the Seeker! AND THEN RIVER. God, I'd been pining for River ♥ I just adored the Doctor's utter shock and rush of emotion, his forgetting everything else for a second, just longing for her. I'd been so curious about how she and the Seeker would interact, and their understanding regarding the importance of her research, their dialogue were ever so nice! I also loved her starting by exposing her research, then casually moving on to the subject of the Daleks, all "well, I wouldn't care, but the husband will", and being ready to sacrifize herself, for all of her offhand airs. And the Doctor's world was tipping again—her death compromised and modified, his so difficult goodbye to her basically made for nothing, the timelines shifting and tangled. More legend-ish terms, with the Warriors coming after the youngsters ;) Roda was so very striking, just burning with emotion, so damaged, raw, blazing and dangerous. Her lines held such sharpness too. But then they were all zapped on the Dalek ship, and the Doctor was still so lost, instinctively reaching out to River, desperate as he didn't have the slightest inkling of a plan. Jack, River and Roda's reactions were spot-on. Loved the Doctor's not daring to face Clara as he had lost all hope, and his moment with River…
And the Seeker's moment! His lines, the Doctor's astonishment as he saw so much of his father in his face and attitude, that was just marvelous! I'm still gaping at the Toclafane. That's one cliffhanger indeed! *claps* It's brilliant :D Can't wait to see how you pull that one off! ♥
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#3...
Jack's appearance was lovely, I smirked at his opening line—and ah, some reaction from the Seeker!
I didn't touch Jack's lines at all, except for adapting them (what with there being no Sarah Jane here). And the Seeker doesn't like stupidity. (And Jack's 'plan' is impossibly dumb.)
AND THEN RIVER. God, I'd been pining for River ♥ I just adored the Doctor's utter shock and rush of emotion, his forgetting everything else for a second, just longing for her.
She gets Martha's plan. :) Except less 'Osterhaagen Key' & DOOOOOM, and more 'I'm super smart and totally rigged this up using a kettle & bits of string. Because I'm awesome.' And oh, for the Doctor to see her at this point... Dayum, it was impossible to be OTT.
I'd been so curious about how she and the Seeker would interact, and their understanding regarding the importance of her research, their dialogue were ever so nice! I also loved her starting by exposing her research
They're both scientists. And neither knows that she's supposed to be dead, so are blissfully free of any of the Doctor's angst.
then casually moving on to the subject of the Daleks, all "well, I wouldn't care, but the husband will", and being ready to sacrifize herself, for all of her offhand airs.
Exactly. She does care, much like... Oh Sherlock. Yes. She goes around with the 'psychopath' label, yet she'd do anything for those she loves.
And the Doctor's world was tipping again—her death compromised and modified, his so difficult goodbye to her basically made for nothing, the timelines shifting and tangled.
Everything is already wrong - and then it gets worse. Poor Doctor.
More legend-ish terms, with the Warriors coming after the youngsters ;)
I love using epithets - it's a very Moffat-y thing, and one that works very well here. Also the 'warriors' I used dictated that I couldn't use the whole 'Children of Time turned into murderers' from the original, because these warriors are, well, warriors. Jack was a soldier long before the Doctor met him. Roda is *older* than the Doctor, and fought in the War. And anyone trying to point out that River is a weapon because of him would be met with 'Well... duh!' :)
Roda was so very striking, just burning with emotion, so damaged, raw, blazing and dangerous. Her lines held such sharpness too.
I adore Roda, she's a wonderful character. The complete opposite of the Seeker - impulsive, emotional, but fire-y. I'm especially glad her part worked. <3
But then they were all zapped on the Dalek ship, and the Doctor was still so lost, instinctively reaching out to River, desperate as he didn't have the slightest inkling of a plan. Loved the Doctor's not daring to face Clara as he had lost all hope, and his moment with River…
Loved flipping that moment - dunno if you noticed, but he says 'She can't save him', rather than the other way around. And oh, River.
Jack, River and Roda's reactions were spot-on.
River's reaction is, word-for-word, the same as the Doctor's was initially. :)
And the Seeker's moment! His lines, the Doctor's astonishment as he saw so much of his father in his face and attitude, that was just marvelous! I'm still gaping at the Toclafane. That's one cliffhanger indeed! *claps* It's brilliant :D Can't wait to see how you pull that one off! ♥
\o/ \o/ \o/
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(I'm evil, have I mentioned?)
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How very dare you. :|
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Mind you, I'm sure you can see why that quote you posted made me think of this? Although I am happy that he DID remember to consider the Doctor's feelings. (Initially, when the TARDIS was destroyed. His mother taught him well.)