sixwordstories | (no subject)

You don't?

Wow, you must have seriously bad luck then.

[He stares and he's holding his his hands behind his back.]

Oh, you're nothing but trouble. [His voice is thin and he's not exactly interested in seeing the blond.] I highly suggest that you go somewhere else.

Why should I? I have every right to be here, old friend.

*He's swiftly coming to hate this Doctor--actual hate, not the sort of broken friendship he usually has. He's not sure what's wrong with this one, but it's very unpleasant.*

I'm not the one who can go anywhere/when he wants to, you know. Maybe your TARDIS is trying to tell you something?

Please don't use that word with me. I'm going to remind you again that I'm not your Doctor.

[He frankly doesn't care. He keeps his hands tucked behind his back and he leans against the doors of his TARDIS.]

She's telling me she wants you nowhere near her. You seem to get anywhere without anything or anyone hampering you.

*He growls under his breath.* Yes, I can tell.

But things would get rather . . . nasty, lets say, for both of us if I didn't do my best to think of you that way at least. And it would be bad for what remains of my mental health to kill a Doctor, even a cruel one.

[He keeps himself posed and calm. That's not exactly a good thing neither and he listens to everything. Then when the words cruel hit.]

Cruel? Oh, yes so the one who's saved the whole of reality is called cruel by someone who tortures and eats people? I'm not even insulted by this.

And do note the threat on my life is provoking enough for me to consider action.

You've been cruel to me, at least. And I have a reason for being what I am. You're the one who's supposed to be the good guy.

I won't kill you. I won't I won't I won't I--*He shakes himself.* Sorry. It's just that you're making things worse instead of better. Usually Doctors make things better, you're not supposed to make things worse.

So you want a pat on the ass now? [He's been hanging around Jack for a bit too long. He doesn't care right now.] I won't stand for my friends or innocent lives to be harmed.

I did not save the whole of creation just so it could become your playground. Oh, stop coddling yourself and accept the consequences for your actions for once.

There's no middle ground for this. None. You're not helping me with anything. Ever. [His voice is firm and cold. The Doctor has 'always had a dark streak about him.] I gave my Master numerous chances when I had two different faces. He chose his path in life. You've have selected your path.

I won't accept someone who kills and maims the lives of innocent by standards. We've had this talk before and it's growing old. I've been through with you and I will continue to be through with 'you'.

I chose nothing! The High Council made all my choices for me, they ripped away my history and ruined my life.

It's ironic, isn't it, the Master having no real control over his life. Perhaps that's why I really chose it, hmm? The Master, controlled by the drums.

*He slumps* I am insane, Doctor. Not just arrogant or sadistic but out and out mad. What you see as destroying and murdering and torturing everyone you know? I saw it as asking you to say hi more often. I'm still getting used to the idea that you never saw it that way, that you would respond with genuine anger and horror, that you didn't see what I was trying to say.

All the bad things I've ever done to you have been just my way of saying hi, or asking you to play with me, or wondering why you don't hang out with me the way we did as children. Sometimes it didn't seem like it even to me, but I've done a bit of thinking since I learned where the drums were coming from and that seems to be the real reason for most of it.

I should just get a tape recorder and just play the same message over and over.

[He rolls his eyes and he pushes the doors of the TARDIS open. He's done with this. He has been done with this for a long time and he gets ready to step inside of the TARDIS. Everything else is simply in one ear and out other. The Doctor stops halfway inside of the doors and he points a finger in the direction of Ghosty.]

Then find personal responsibility for what you have done. My Master was a genius in even in his final days. You're not even that. AND STOP FINDING EXCUSES AND BLAMING EVERYONE ELSE FOR YOUR PROBLEMS! YOU HAVE A BRAIN THAT CAN TELL YOU THESE THINGS! It is your fault now and it is no longer the fault of the High Council.

[He raises his voice and he's done. He's very done as he steps inside of the TARDIS and he slams the doors shut behind him. Its not long until the TARDIS dematerializes and The Doctor is gone.

The guilt would kill me. And I still hear the drums, so it's still their fault at least as much as it is mine.

*He glares at the Doctor's back as he leaves, hands crackling, before forcing himself to turn away.*

Reaaaally?