Beyond the Rift: The Instruments of Mercy (are foreign to their hands)
justprompts: "No one holds command over me. No man. No god. No Prince. What is a claim of age for ones who are immortal? What is a claim of power for ones who defy death? Call your damnable hunt. We shall see who I drag screaming to hell with me." - Mark Rein Hagen
He should have come earlier.
If he'd come earlier, he wouldn't be pulling Martha out of a tub of bleach and her own blood. He wouldn't be tearing himself open now, pulling in her power and reflecting it back, opening and healing bullet and knife wounds, breaking and setting bones, screaming in wordless pain just to get her heart to start beating again. He wouldn't feel that flash of sudden, utter hatred when she comes back to life and wants nothing more than to be dead again.
He should have known better.
He knew it would come to this, Jack dead on the floor, Martha covered in blood and clinging to Des, Des just killed a woman and the Doctor's barely on his feet, swaying a little. From the moment he met Calisto, of course he would be the one to deal with her, because who else could? If he'd just listened to what he knew then, he wouldn't be standing here now, facing Calisto with her so close he can feel the heat radiating off her skin, gun pressed to his chin and just daring her to pull the trigger.
He shouldn't have given her the chance.
He had the chance to stop her before. So many times before. But Martha wouldn't let him risk it, or Jack convinced him to stop and plan, or Des went and tackled him, and... No more. He is not wondering about what would have happened after this. He grabs her by the wrists, takes her power, bends it and forces it back, pain coursing down her veins and his, fire and lightning and molten fury.
It hurts. And then it stops. Then it twists. Then it's not pain anymore, it's everything he she ever wanted, it's hot black rage and fierce joy, satisfaction and hollow determination, and he can't quite sort out which emotions belong to Calisto and which belong to him. He healed every one of Martha's injuries, and he will make her suffer each one. This is what was done to her and this was how she suffered and this is not a fraction of what Calisto deserves...
It's justice and intimacy and punishment and sex and he hates her, he HATES her, but she loves him and he can't quite pull the two apart, and her last thought before she dies is thank you.
He should have been less merciful. He's not that sort of a man anyway, anymore.
Muse: The Tenth Doctor
Word Count: 420
He should have come earlier.
If he'd come earlier, he wouldn't be pulling Martha out of a tub of bleach and her own blood. He wouldn't be tearing himself open now, pulling in her power and reflecting it back, opening and healing bullet and knife wounds, breaking and setting bones, screaming in wordless pain just to get her heart to start beating again. He wouldn't feel that flash of sudden, utter hatred when she comes back to life and wants nothing more than to be dead again.
He should have known better.
He knew it would come to this, Jack dead on the floor, Martha covered in blood and clinging to Des, Des just killed a woman and the Doctor's barely on his feet, swaying a little. From the moment he met Calisto, of course he would be the one to deal with her, because who else could? If he'd just listened to what he knew then, he wouldn't be standing here now, facing Calisto with her so close he can feel the heat radiating off her skin, gun pressed to his chin and just daring her to pull the trigger.
He shouldn't have given her the chance.
He had the chance to stop her before. So many times before. But Martha wouldn't let him risk it, or Jack convinced him to stop and plan, or Des went and tackled him, and... No more. He is not wondering about what would have happened after this. He grabs her by the wrists, takes her power, bends it and forces it back, pain coursing down her veins and his, fire and lightning and molten fury.
It hurts. And then it stops. Then it twists. Then it's not pain anymore, it's everything he she ever wanted, it's hot black rage and fierce joy, satisfaction and hollow determination, and he can't quite sort out which emotions belong to Calisto and which belong to him. He healed every one of Martha's injuries, and he will make her suffer each one. This is what was done to her and this was how she suffered and this is not a fraction of what Calisto deserves...
It's justice and intimacy and punishment and sex and he hates her, he HATES her, but she loves him and he can't quite pull the two apart, and her last thought before she dies is thank you.
He should have been less merciful. He's not that sort of a man anyway, anymore.
Muse: The Tenth Doctor
Word Count: 420