Title: Bottle Up and Explode
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Brendan Block
Fandom: Doctor Who/Secret Smile
Rating: PG-13
Table: Epsilon, challenge_the
Prompt: 40, Coping
Warning: past non-con.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Brendan Block, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

"How are you feeling, love?" the Doctor asked, moving to stand behind Brendan at the bathroom mirror. His dark eyes met his lover's in the glass; Brendan didn't glance away, but held the other man's gaze steadily, a small smile curving his lips.

"I'm all right," he replied, hoping that his voice sounded steady. It wasn't a lie; he was coping well with the aftermath of what the Master had done to him, and the subsequent mind games that the renegade Time Lord had been trying to play with both of them.

Still, the strain was telling on him. He actually looked older than he had when he'd first met the Doctor, and it wasn't a natural aging. There were a few more lines around his eyes, and there was a haunted look there that never seemed to quite go away.

He was sure that the Doctor had noticed it, too; that was more than likely why his lover was speaking to him in a gentle, measured voice and asking him how he was feeling. He loved the other man for caring so much, but he didn't want the Time Lord to worry.

He knew that worrying was something that the Doctor seemed to do without realizing it. Brendan had caught the other man looking at him with a concerned expression on his face, and he had tried not to be irritated by that, because he knew that it was caused by love.

No one had ever cared about him to that extent before. When he'd been sick, there had been no one to sit by his bed and hold his hand, no one to make him chicken soup and take his temperature. The Doctor was someone who would do all that for him.

Of course, this was much more than simply having the flu or feeling a little ill. But the concern was the same, and he welcomed it. He would have done the same for the Doctor, and indeed, there was a part of him that worried about the other man just as much.

He knew that the Doctor could take care of himself; the Time Lord had been traveling the galaxy for so many centuries that there were things other people would be horrified at which he could take in stride. But that didn't stop Brendan from being concerned for his well-being.

The Doctor's voice brought him out of his thoughts and back to the present moment.

"I know you have a lot to cope with after what happened, Brendan," he said, his voice soft and a little hesitant. "I don't want you to feel like I'm hovering over you. But I can't help worrying about you. I know what it's like to go through that, you know."

Brendan nodded, feeling somewhat ashamed of having been wrapped up in himself lately. The Doctor had been through exactly what he had -- and he'd endured that suffering many times over. He had no right to feel sorry for himself when the Doctor had been through much worse.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, reaching out to take his lover's hand. "I shouldn't be focused on myself. I know you've been through what I have, many more times. It's just .... hard to wrap my head around it and make peace with it when all I want to do is kill him."

"I've felt that way too, Brendan," the Doctor told him with a sigh. "There are stages you go through, you know. Anger is one of them, and that's where you've been. I don't blame you for that. I know what it's like to want to exact revenge and to feel helpless."

"You've felt that way a lot, and not just concerning him, haven't you?" Brendan asked, knowing that his words were true. He didn't have to ask the question. The Doctor had felt powerless about a lot of situations he'd been faced with, and that had to be frustrating.

"Yes, I have -- but there have been more than a few times that I've managed to find solutions when I thought there were none." The Doctor spoke quietly, his tone firm. Brendan could almost swear that there was a hidden pride in his voice.

And what was wrong with that? he asked himself. The Doctor should be proud of all that he'd done for the world. If he had his moments of weakness here and there when he felt that he couldn't cope, then he had a right to them. No one could be strong all the time.

"Everyone has their own ways of coping," he murmured, not sure of what to say. He wanted to turn the conversation away from himself, but he wasn't so sure that the Doctor was ready to do that. The other man wanted -- maybe even needed -- to know how he was feeling.

"Yes, they do," the Doctor agreed, moving closer to him and sliding both arms around Brendan's waist. "And I worry about yours, Brendan. I know you want to push it all away, but you can't. You don't have to be strong in front of me. You can show what you feel."

"I know." Brendan's throat felt tight, constricted. He wanted to let his feelings out -- there was a torrent of emotions bottled up inside him, everything from rage to tears. But he wasn't sure just how the Doctor would react when the floodgates opened.

Hell, he didn't know how he would react. And the last thing he wanted to do was to turn the rage he felt against the Master on the man he loved. The Doctor didn't deserve to have to deal with a confused flood of emotions all coming to the surface at once.

He could feel the Doctor's gaze on him, anxiously studying his face. Brendan took a deep breath and looked directly into his lover's eyes; he wasn't going to hold anything back from the Doctor. This man deserved to know everything that he was thinking and feeling.

He'd never been good at showing his true emotions. But he'd let them out now.

"How am I coping?" he began, sighing and shaking his head. "To be honest, Doctor, I'm not sure. Part of me wants to scream and rage. Part of me wants to track him down and beat him to a bloody pulp. And part of me wants to curl up in a corner and cry."

"All of those feelings are normal," the Doctor told him, tightening his arms around Brendan's waist. "I've felt them before, too. Let them out, Brendan. Keeping your emotions bottled up is only going to make them eventually explode -- and not in a good way."

Brendan nodded, sighing again. "I know that. And I don't want to let those emotions fester until they become something that I can't cope with. There are all kinds of different ways of coping, and I've been through some of the more negative ones before."

"You're too good a person at heart to give yourself over to that negativity," the Doctor said, raising a hand to his face and stroking his cheek. "I know you don't believe that sometimes, but it's true, Brendan. You may not believe in yourself -- but I believe in you enough for both of us."

"You may need that belief," Brendan murmured, gratified and a little embarrassed to hear such a profession of faith in him. "I'm not always the stellar person you seem to think I am, Doctor. And I'm not always good at coping with bad situations."

"I don't doubt for a second that you'll be worthy of my faith in you," the Doctor told him, his voice firm. There was no shadow of doubt in his tone; Brendan found it hard to believe that anyone could see him in such a favorable light, but somehow, the Doctor did.

Maybe that was what love did to people. If so, then he was willing to accept that faith -- and try to live up to it in every way that he could. The Doctor made him want to be a better person, and that wasn't a bad thing. Not easy to measure up to all the time, but not a bad aspiration to have.

"I'll try to live up to the faith you have in me, Doctor," he whispered, not taking his eyes from the Time Lord's face. "And I'll try to cope with all of this without breaking down, or letting that rage take over. It's not easy, but I'm working on it."

"You're doing a wonderful job so far," the Doctor murmured, his hand moving to Brendan's hair, fingers stroking a few unruly strands back from his face. "Everyone has different ways of coping, Brendan. Some are better than others -- and I trust you to know the best ones."

Brendan nodded, leaning forward slightly to brush his lips against the Doctor's mouth. Yes, he knew the best ways of coping. And even though those were all on the straight and narrow, he'd try his best to stick to them. He just hoped that he'd be able to do so, without veering off onto a darker path.

***