taxonomites | eighteen | location: the tardis | it's never that simple

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eighteen | location: the tardis | it's never that simple | locked to morgana & those in hc clements

after this.

The Doctor leaves Rose sleeping after a while and heads to the console. He promised he wouldn't take them from Taxon until Rose woke up, and he plans to keep that promise. He'll say goodbye to Rose, send her back to her world, and then take everyone else back. Everyone except the Master. He can't give him back to the timeline, he just can't. He needs to convince himself that he's wrong, but that will take time.

But, there's something he needs to do in Taxon, first. Someone he has to give some very sad information to.

He steers the TARDIS towards another room in HC Clements, one with another victim of the Master's resting up. Vaguely, he recognizes that going to visit Morgana while Rose is sleeping won't look very good to Rose, who is already suspecting he's up to more than he actually is, but he can't just run away from this. Not this time.

He parks the TARDIS in the middle of the room and heads towards the door.

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"Yeah, it's not so bad. Patched up enough wounds in my time, I think," he says, trying to appear as casual as possible. This day has been very, very draining on him. He wishes he could sleep. He wishes physical tiredness would take away this ache.

"Seems a good girl, your Gwen," he says. "Strong-headed, but you know I think that's a good trait."

"So has she."

And because Morgana is not one to waste espousing the virtues of her closest confidante. "People fail to see that in her. She is much stronger than people give her credit for, had to be, after Tom was killed. She is like water, patiently works through things, making them as they should be."

Since honesty is on the menu, "She is a far better person than me."

Edited 2010-06-07 04:28 (UTC)

"Well, I don't know about that," the Doctor says, giving Morgana a cheeky smile. "But then again, I don't know her."

This is good. She's talking about her best friend, not at all focused on the Master or the things done to her. And, well, the Doctor still feels a lingering affection for Gwen from his connection to Morgana, so he can't really complain about hearing her talked about. It's about time he learned a bit about this woman he so blindly trusts.

"Who's Tom?"

"You would agree," translated, that means he will agree because it is true, and Morgana will not hear opinions to the contrary, under any circumstances.

The longer she talks, the more she feels like herself. "Tom is her father. He was a truly gifted blacksmith, and," it is clear the next point is the most important, "he adored his daughter. He was killed shortly after being arrested for assisting a sorcerer."

"All right, I will, then," he says, giving her a cheeky smile.

The rest of her explanation isn't nearly so cheery, and he nods. "Your world doesn't like magic," he says. "Even perceived magic. Rose's world was the same, a long time ago."

"As you should," Morgana is not really feeling playful, but she is trying.

But she does need to correct the Doctor on his perception, "It is worse than dislike. Anyone even associated with magic is put to death. Uther is so afraid of it, he will do anything to stamp it out completely. He has been truly tyrannical in that regard." Considering the Doctor is neither Gwen, nor -- no, she is still not thinking about him -- saying such treasonous words aloud show her seriousness. She's quieter when she says them, like the king, being an almost omniscient presence at home, might hear them, even here.

She leaves unsaid that anything would include executing her, if the opportunity arose. No matter what the king has said to her in the past, she is as certain of that fact as she is Gwen being her better.

"Yeah, that's how it was on her world, too," the Doctor says. "But things got better. People stopped being afraid, all right, they're still afraid of a lot of things, but not of that. Not of magic. People who are different are more respected than they used to be."

He offers her a smile. "Your world will get there, you'll see."

Though without Arthur, will it?

The Doctor and Morgana are thinking the same thing. One of the reasons Morgana's been able to get along so well is the hope, one she's held onto shortly after her arrival in Camelot, when she fought Uther on everything, even as a child, was that, one day, his reign would be over. There was always the expectation that --

No. None of that is possible now.

"I live in a world where the king believes it is acceptable to execute children," she thinks of the little, sick boy, with the blue eyes, that clung to her when he was ill, "because of their associations with magic. I do not think it will change fast enough, for me."

It was one of the reasons she clung so greatly to her denial -- any acceptance, any implication her nightmares are something other than madness -- would result in her own execution, of that she is sure.

"Yeah." He's seen that before, on Earth. On other worlds. The cruelty of those who are afraid is far beyond what any reasonable person might do.

He takes a breath. "You don't---"

He wants to say she doesn't have to go back to her world. She could stay with him, on the TARDIS. They could travel, she could see everything and never be afraid of her powers again.

But, like Rose, she has to go back. She has a destiny out there, a life and a history to make. He can't stop that.

"I do not what?" Morgana stops playing with the chain and just takes hold of the key.

"You want to keep her, don't you?" Someone else finds the idea terribly funny, and a great reason to taunt. "But it has so little to do with her situation at home, admit it."

The Doctor stays silent and begins putting away the pieces of the first aid kit. He won't rise to the Master's bait. He won't let him taunt him. He won't let him be his Master, as he half-promised Morgana.

He moves to stand to put the kit away.

"Ignoring me now? It won't last." If the Doctor is looking, he would notice that while the Master is talking, the key slips out of the hand, like it is impossible to hold.

"He is teasing you again, is he not? Sometimes I can hear him when he does. Sometimes, all is silent." Morgana's taken hold of the key again.

"Probably for the best if you don't always hear him," the Doctor says, putting the kit away and heading back to the couch. He thinks about sitting on the floor again, then thinks about going and trying to sleep, and then finally decides to just sit against the arm.

"Wish I didn't have to hear him. Course, I've got it a bit easier than you, I think."

Morgana turns to look at him, sitting on the arm of the sofa. He feels a lot closer "I think it would be the same. I feel like my gift, being used incorrectly." It is a relief she no longer has it; as she does not wish to wield it as a weapon, even if she is not the one controlling it.

As with every other time after a connection, the pain comes less frequently, but there are moments when it hits, as painful as ever, and there is one now. As much as it hurts, if her theory is correct, it's the most hopeful sign she has.

It is a minute before the pain passes, causing her breathing to quicken, and her to curl back up on the couch, holding her head.

Her voice is shaky when she speaks again. The Doctor is the only one she can check her theory with, so she hopes not to sound too ridiculous. "I think it hurts because my mind is trying to expel him, like a festering splinter." It would make sense, her head hurt, like a severe headache the first time, the second, with a deeper connection, it's pain was sharp. This time, with the violence involved, the pain's increased accordingly.

At least, she hopes she's right, as if there is not a purpose to the pain, she might cry again. Everything hurts.

"Bodies naturally work out splinters," the Doctor says, approving of the connection. "And you'll naturally work him out. Your body is tougher than he is. He's nothing but a remnant of what he was."

He wants to comfort her, but he doesn't know how. He's terrified to be too close, to make the Master that much more ingrained in her. If the Master were a metallic splinter, he'd be the exact opposite of the Doctor's magnetism, pushing deeper into her if he got too close.

"It will be all right," he promises.

Knowing nothing of magnetic poles, Morgana looks at him. She's naturally fairly strong, but this has taken more out of her than even her illness months previously.

She's lying facing him, and lifts her hand, like she's planning on taking his hand but another pain hits, and she groans. She closes her eyes tightly, breathing through the hurt. Morgana is hoping it because the Master is nearly gone, but she can still feel him.

She opens her eyes and looks at him, and makes an observation of the two, "You are many things. He is only pain. It's all he wants -- yours in particular."

And another pain hits. It is followed by, what is to Morgana, blissful unconsciousness.

He hates seeing her in pain. He hates seeing her in pain and knowing there is absolutely nothing he can do to fix it. So he sits, and he watches helplessly as she falls unconscious.

"I'll make it right, Morgana," he says. "Don't know how, yet, but I will."

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eighteen | location: the tardis | it's never that simple | locked to morgana & those in hc clements

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