Title: Under Glass
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 3, 10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: 7, Captured/Trapped
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

So many species had wanted to capture him in the past, the Doctor reflected as he leaned his head back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. Well, it seemed that one had finally managed to do just that, leaving him with no way out.

All the other times that he'd been in this sort of position, he'd had a companion with him to help him find a way out. This time, he had no one. He was alone, more so than he'd ever been -- and no one had any idea of where he was.

He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to look at the iron bars of the cage that he was imprisoned in. He'd certainly been in situations like this before -- even ones that appeared to be much more life-threatening -- but this one was infinitely worse.

Not only did no one know where he was -- but being in a cage like this was utterly humiliating. He was sure that he now knew how an animal in a zoo on Earth must feel.

It was almost impossible to ignore the fact that at certain times of the day, he was stared at as though he was an animal in a cage, under glass for observation. That was probably what he was to this species, the Doctor told himself, his inner voice sounding more than a little disgusted.

Of course, they knew that he wasn't an animal. They'd spoken to him as they'd dragged him down the long corridors that had led to this room, telling him exactly what they were going to do with him. Nothing, they'd said. Nothing fatal, at any rate.

No, they only intended to keep him here in this .... this cage, and expect him to grow used to that sort of life. What did they think would happen if he was imprisoned here for months, years, decades? Did they intend to study him as he grew older?

Judging from the times he was observed, he was fairly sure that three days had passed at this point. Three of the longest days of his entire life.

How was he going to get out of here? His sonic screwdriver had been taken from him -- and then there was the fact that these creatures had forced him to change clothes. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and just the fact that they'd dressed him in such a way was disturbing.

Did this mean that they'd studied humans? Did they know what people who at least looked human had the greatest tendency to wear? Or were there humans somewhere else on this planet, perhaps locked into cages just as he was?

The thought made his hearts beat faster in his chest; he couldn't help feeling that if there was at least one human on this planet, then the two of them could find a way out of here -- if he could just get out of this cage and find a way to get to that person.

The Doctor closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his knees. That possibility seemed very remote at the moment; there were too many "what if" scenarios to consider.

First, he would have to find some way to trick one of his captors into letting him out of here -- and that didn't seem as if it was going to happen, to say the least. No, they'd made it very clear that he was a prisoner, and that they weren't going to let him go.

These creatures hadn't threatened him in any particular way, but he didn't want to think of what they might be capable of doing to him if he attempted to thwart whatever they might have planned. Those tentacles they sported didn't look as if they would be easy to deal with.

There hadn't been any overt threats; in fact, the creatures seemed to be treating him quite well, even if they obviously regarded him as some lower form of life. They didn't seem to believe that he wasn't human -- even if they knew what a Gallifreyan was.

He was trapped here -- unless he could somehow figure out some way to escape. And then there were still other obstacles to get past.

He had absolutely no idea where the Tardis was. Somewhere on this planet, yes -- but as to where on that planet, he had no idea. He'd have to find her -- which wasn't going to be easy to do without having much of a sense of which direction she was in.

Then there was the slight problem of no longer having his sonic screwdriver. He'd have to get that little item back; that wasn't something that he could afford to be without, and he certainly wasn't going to even consider surrendering it to a race he didn't know.

Not that he would consider giving it up to anyone, truth be told. There was no telling what could be done with it. Even if it wasn't a laser screwdriver like that little tool the Master used, it was still an instrument that he didn't mean to let go.

The thought of the Master made a cold chill run through him; as an idea slowly burgeoned in his mind, the Doctor lifted his head, staring into space, his eyes wide.

What if these creatures were only keeping him here until they could turn him over to the Master? What if that was the reason he'd been lured here and captured in the first place? What if he was only a pawn in some much larger scheme?

He certainly wouldn't put that past his greatest enemy. In fact, this would be exactly the way that the Master would work -- get someone else to do his dirty work, eliminate his biggest stumbling block -- and be the one who would administer the dénouement.

That would not only be the way the Master worked, but it would explain why he'd gotten such an urgent summons on the psychic paper to come here -- only to find these creatures and a cage awaiting him. It would also explain why he got not answers as to what his fate would be.

There was nothing that he could do now but wait. Wait and hope that he was wrong about all this, and that he might have been captured and trapped here for another reason entirely.

Any other reason might be better than the probabilities that were going through his head at lightning speed. Each idea seemed worse than the last one; none of them were at all palatable. Nothing was when it concerned the Master.

He'd walked right into this without being cautious enough. The Doctor sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall again, this time hard enough to make an audible thunk and bring an exclamation of pain to his lips.

But he had the definite feeling that it wouldn't be anything compared to the pain he would feel when the Master got here and removed him from this place. He was safer here than he would be at that point; these creatures didn't seem as though they meant to harm him.

Life in a cage, as compared to the possibility of suffering a much worse fate at the hands of a man who had once been his friend. Which one would he choose?

The Doctor shook his head, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to keep back a groan of frustration. He knew which one he'd choose; there wasn't really a choice involved. He would have to choose the more dangerous, unknown path that would end with him confronting the Master.

That was the only path open to him. Being a captive here would eventually kill him; he would lose his will to live if he couldn't roam the galaxy. Of course, the Master knew that -- and maybe that was his plan. It would certainly be a diabolical one.

Kill his greatest enemy by keeping him captive, taking away his freedom. He had to know that would be the quickest way to destroy the Doctor's spirit, to chip at away at everything he was. It was the most brilliant plan he could have come up with.

The Time Lord buried his face in his hands, giving in to despair for a few moments. When he raised his head again, there was a steely determination that hadn't been there before.

He was going to fight whatever it was that the Master had planned for him. He was going to fight with all his strength, until it was impossible for him to fight any longer and he had no choice but to give in. But he would fight until his dying breath.

And he was going to win that fight. After all, he was a Time Lord. He might be captured at the moment -- but he'd always known how to turn a situation to his advantage.

***