Title: Rage Hard
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/The Master
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 1, 50ficlets
Prompt: 25, Storm
Warnings: 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 the Master. Please do not sue.***
There was something rather majestic about storms, the Doctor thought as he stood in the open doorway of the Tardis, watching the rain pelting down on the field where he'd landed the ship and taking in the beauty of the storm-darkened sky.
He'd never really taken the time to appreciate the beauty of nature much before, he mused, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe of the ship. There was something wild and abandoned about it -- much like the human spirit.
He had met so many humans who reminded him of storms at times. It was one of the things he loved about their race -- the way they could have such strong emotions, and how their feelings could change in the blink of an eye.
Of course, he could he the same way at times, he told himself, a wry smile on his lips. But he would never admit that to anyone else.
He was more like humans in some ways than he was comfortable with, if he was honest with himself. And in other ways, he'd like to be more human than Gallifreyan. Still, in the long run, he was satisfied with who he was.
But was he happy with what he was? Sometimes, he had to wonder about that.
Not that he would trade being a Time Lord for anything else in the world, he told himself hastily, that voice in his head backing away from the thoughts that had been half-forming in his mind. He liked being what he was. He wouldn't change it.
After all, he'd been through tests that would make most adult humans cringe away in fear -- when he was only a child. He'd been a Time Lord since his early teens; he could barely remember what it was like not to be what he was.
Truth be told, he couldn't really remember much of his formative years. The only thing that really came through was his friendship with the Master -- a friendship that had ended long ago.
That was probably the biggest regret he has in his life, he thought with a sigh, shifting from one foot to another. The fact that the person he'd been closest to when he was young had become so twisted and warped by things that he'd passed through fairly easily.
But that was a risk that anyone who wanted to become a Time Lord took. They all faced it; some came through it relatively unscathed, and some broke because of it. The Master had been one of those who had broken, and there was nothing anyone could do to change that.
He'd wanted to try. He'd wanted to turn that around. And he'd tried. Oh, how he'd tried.
It was impossible to fix broken things sometimes; they'd smashed into too many shattered pieces to ever be able to fit them together again in the way they'd been when they were whole. He'd learned that the hard way, hadn't he?
His relationship with the Master reminded him of the storm he was witnessing, in a way. Wind-tossed, turbulent, unpredictable. He never knew just what the other man was thinking in that warped mind of his; he could never predict what would happen between them.
He'd given up trying long ago. But he'd never given up hope that one day the Master would see that the path he was on would only lead him to unhappiness and eventual destruction; he wished that he could somehow make that clear.
That was a vain hope. In his hearts he knew that it wouldn't happen. But he was the eternal optimist, always hoping against hope for some miracle to occur.
Could he help it if he always wanted to see the best in people -- even in the Master? Even though he'd long since been convinced that the person he'd cared for when he was a child was long gone, he still couldn't let that spark of hope die.
Giving up on the Master would be like giving up on the wild, untamed side of the universe. It might rage and cause untold troubles for the world, but it could always be soothed, caught and tamed and made into something more sedate.
He almost snorted at the thought. The idea of the Master going that route was almost comical; he couldn't see that man ever letting anyone turn him into something he didn't want to be. The Doctor had tried, and failed. It was a lost cause.
That should have been more than obvious by now. It was, actually. But he still kept hoping.
If he didn't, then he couldn't face off against the Master, as humans often did against storms that they couldn't control. He could no more control the other Time Lord than he could tame this storm that was raging outside his ship now.
It was magnificent. And so, in a way, was his adversary, even though he admitted that reluctantly and with a great deal of trepidation.
The Doctor's eyes widened as a lightning flash streaked across the sky, followed by a boom of thunder so loud that it almost made his ears ache. The reminded him of the Master, too -- loud and bombasitc, he thought with another wry smile. Always raging hard, just like this storm.
With one last look at the storm still howling outside, he turned back to the Tardis, pushing the door closed -- and closing a mental door on his thoughts of his greatest enemy, at least for a while.***
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