InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm not anti-social."

The Master (cantyouhearit) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2010-11-15 23:38:00

Entry tags:

!@event, !closed, lucy saxon, the master

WHO: AU!Master & Lucy Saxon
WHAT: He's pretty sure he was supposed to have died just then.
WHEN: November 15th; mid-afternoon
WHERE: The Master's flat
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

After being detached from the machinery, he'd expected a swift end. They're already forced him through all his regenerations, left him to rot in a half formed body kept alive only by mechanisms that should never have existed in the first place. The reassurances that Ailla still lived in some universe, that there was a place where things had worked out far better than the one that he'd been trapped in, had been the last, best thought to usher him off. But just as his consciousness had started to fade, it all came searing back to him in a torrent of sensations and a sudden feeling of dislocation that shouldn't have been.

Pulling himself up from the chair -- odd, a chair that wasn't cold and solid and holding him in place -- he outstretched his hands in front of them, a quiet inspection later yielding the information that he was in a body that was fully functional to the best of its abilities: two hearts, a sufficient mind, and, after a quick inspection in the mirror, a fully intact face. It didn't make any sense. There had been no intense agony as there always had been before, no mental confusion, no fog to pull himself through, and no residual after effects that he could still feel. And there was also the added complication of the sudden relocation that had gone along with it.

Looking around the flat, quietly baffled for the moment, Koschei had just stood in place, frowning up into the mirror as a soft sigh passed his lips, "Who are you?"

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neverthatbright
2010-11-17 03:25 am UTC (link)

She tensed when he approached her. She didn't back away, didn't flee, knew better than to do either, but she certainly stiffened a bit. However the hands he placed on her shoulders weren't meant to hurt and the touch was gentle enough that she got the unspoken message. It was baffling, to be sure, but Lucy fully understood in that moment that she really was not dealing with a version of her husband that was anything close to what she was used to. Which was both a relief, as well as heartbreaking, and she honestly wasn't sure which emotion to give into first. If either. For the time being, she ignored her own reaction and instead focused on what he was saying.

It wasn't easy to imagine. She'd been told more than enough times that Harry certainly didn't need her around in any real sense of the word. Yes, the signals were mixed, as now that he truly didn't need her family's connections in order to further his own agenda, he really should have simply cast her aside yet clearly hadn't done so. However mixed signals didn't tell her anything that she dared to guess at and so she simply took his word as law and ignored the rest. Which meant that she really wasn't needed but more there simply because he wished it, for whatever reason, and it was in her best interest to just accept that fact and not question it.

His palm was warm against her cheek and caused longing for such tenderness from the man she loved. Since in Colligo, she'd received it. Harry had actually done very well at not lashing out at her and instead treating her with the same gentleness as he had when they'd first met. But Lucy knew it wouldn't last. Nothing ever truly lasted anyway, and what had been a rather pleasant point in her marriage was no exception. She still longed for it, though, and had to stop herself from leaning a bit into his touch in search of something that this version of the man really couldn't provide.

Her lips parted, a soft breath escaping them. She stared up into his face, her blue eyes alight with curiosity and her forehead creased in concentration. "You don't hear them..." she whispered, scarcely able to believe the thought much less put it into proper words. She did her best, though, wonder slowly replacing the curiosity shining in her eyes as she thought she might have finally figured out the one major difference between this man and the one she'd sworn to love, honour, and obey for life.

"The drums. Do you hear them?" she asked. Part of her was almost afraid of the answer, although she wasn't at all sure why.

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cantyouhearit
2010-11-17 04:00 am UTC (link)

That was a question that he'd never expected to be asked, not outright and direct like that, and as Koschei peered at the woman across from him with something akin to shock, it took a moment for him to really register how to respond. "I do my best to ignore them," Was the most honest answer that he could come up with. They were there. They'd always been there since his initiation, urging him towards a path that he wasn't sure he was comfortable with and from all appearances, was the one that his other self had taken. That explained the high suspicion levels of his companions, at least. "I can't see anything productive that would come from giving over to their demands."

After all, a call to war was unless in a time of peace. Men with that mindset spent all of their time trying to create chaos where it didn't exist and fanning the flames of a brush fire into an inferno where it already did.

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neverthatbright
2010-11-17 04:17 am UTC (link)

Oh. So he did hear them, then. He just seemed to have some way to ignore them that either Harry lacked, or simply hadn't bothered with. Or it was something else entirely, that she wasn't aware of having happened and probably never would be. Really, the possibilities were endless and far to many for her to consider.

But still. It was difficult to accept whether she was willing to dwell on it or not. The knowledge that somewhere, some how, there was a version of her husband who hadn't given into the insanity. A version of him who, while clearly broken in his own way, wasn't nearly as volatile. A version Lucy was willing to bet that also wasn't interested in the death and destruction the way her Harry tended to be.

Both better in some ways, and worse in others, and not at all the man she'd married. As nice as he was, Lucy couldn't help but wish that her version was back. She didn't wish any ill will toward this one but she also knew he wasn't the man she loved. Yet she also knew she couldn't, wouldn't, pull away or spurn him. She'd stay as close as he needed her to be, help him as best she could, because... well, frankly, Lucy wasn't sure what else to do.

"Oh," was all she said out loud in reply to his admission. It was clear from that single word that she didn't understand how it was possible, but she wasn't going to ask. He wouldn't know the answer anyway and, if she ever saw Harry again, she knew he'd never bother to explain. It was simply something she would have to live with, one of many unknowns that she'd been introduced to since meeting the Time Lord.

"Harry doesn't." Or possibly couldn't. Lucy wasn't sure on that one, really. With a slight shake of her head, barely perceivable even if someone was watching her closely, she dispelled the thought and let her mind switch gears.

"Would you like some tea?" she repeated, having asked the question earlier before getting sidetracked. Once more she felt the urge to do something familiar, and tea seemed the best answer.

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