Fic: Resentment
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irishvampire13
Title: 'Resentment'
Rating: G
Word Count: 408
Claim: Eleventh Doctor; 12 Prompts: Poetry Randomizer
Prompt: #2: Over and Out
Notes/Warnings: Takes place during 'Victory of the Daleks'; reference to 'The Eleventh Hour'
Summary: Sometimes...sometimes, he's sick to death of saving humans. Sometimes, he finds himself wondering if they're even worth saving.
"The Doctor to Danny Boy. The Doctor to Danny Boy. Withdraw."
Not much choice, is there? Not with his favorite planet--his favorite species--standing as hostage in the hands of his worst enemies.
"Withdraw. Return to Earth. Over and out."
Damn it. So close. So damn close! They were right there, in the palm of his hand. His to destroy, once and for all.
And now...nothing. The golden opportunity to avenge Gallifrey...and he's had to toss it aside. One last blow in the Time War, and he'll never be able to strike it. His hands are tied.
By his love for Earth. For humans.
In that moment, he resents them. What are they, anyway, compared to him? Primitives. Savages, fighting their petty little skirmishes and calling them warfare. So pathetic, that; they don't even know what war is. And he's been in the thick of the ultimate war. One that nearly crushed the entirety of the cosmos.
And they have no idea. No idea of what he's seen, what survival has cost him. What he's had to do. By comparison, the battles raging on this tiny blue planet are little more than the efforts of schoolchildren flinging spitballs at each other.
He can tell them how it'll end, if he wants to. Hell, he could turn the tide and reverse history, if he felt like it. Tweak things just a bit, and he could fix it so that the Allies lose.
Not that he would. He couldn't forgive himself, if he allowed that. The death toll will be too high, as matters stand.
Right now, though...he's having a difficult enough time of self-forgiveness. Once again, the Daleks have slipped through his fingers. They've cheated. They know his key weakness, and have used it to full advantage.
His key weakness is waiting for him to come back to Earth and save them from a threat that they don't even know about yet.
"Damn it," he mutters under his breath, setting coordinates for Winston's bunker. Sometimes...sometimes, he's sick to death of saving humans. Sometimes, he finds himself wondering if they're even worth saving.
Inexplicably, the flavor of fish fingers floods his mouth. The taste of a memory. A ginger-haired child looking after a newly-regenerated madman who's crash-landed his magic blue box in her garden.
Amy. Amy's down there. With the bomb named Bracewell.
Amy's worth saving. The rest can go hang. Maybe.
But Amy's worth it.
Amy Pond is always--always--worth anything.
irishvampire13Title: 'Resentment'
Rating: G
Word Count: 408
Claim: Eleventh Doctor; 12 Prompts: Poetry Randomizer
Prompt: #2: Over and Out
Notes/Warnings: Takes place during 'Victory of the Daleks'; reference to 'The Eleventh Hour'
Summary: Sometimes...sometimes, he's sick to death of saving humans. Sometimes, he finds himself wondering if they're even worth saving.
"The Doctor to Danny Boy. The Doctor to Danny Boy. Withdraw."
Not much choice, is there? Not with his favorite planet--his favorite species--standing as hostage in the hands of his worst enemies.
"Withdraw. Return to Earth. Over and out."
Damn it. So close. So damn close! They were right there, in the palm of his hand. His to destroy, once and for all.
And now...nothing. The golden opportunity to avenge Gallifrey...and he's had to toss it aside. One last blow in the Time War, and he'll never be able to strike it. His hands are tied.
By his love for Earth. For humans.
In that moment, he resents them. What are they, anyway, compared to him? Primitives. Savages, fighting their petty little skirmishes and calling them warfare. So pathetic, that; they don't even know what war is. And he's been in the thick of the ultimate war. One that nearly crushed the entirety of the cosmos.
And they have no idea. No idea of what he's seen, what survival has cost him. What he's had to do. By comparison, the battles raging on this tiny blue planet are little more than the efforts of schoolchildren flinging spitballs at each other.
He can tell them how it'll end, if he wants to. Hell, he could turn the tide and reverse history, if he felt like it. Tweak things just a bit, and he could fix it so that the Allies lose.
Not that he would. He couldn't forgive himself, if he allowed that. The death toll will be too high, as matters stand.
Right now, though...he's having a difficult enough time of self-forgiveness. Once again, the Daleks have slipped through his fingers. They've cheated. They know his key weakness, and have used it to full advantage.
His key weakness is waiting for him to come back to Earth and save them from a threat that they don't even know about yet.
"Damn it," he mutters under his breath, setting coordinates for Winston's bunker. Sometimes...sometimes, he's sick to death of saving humans. Sometimes, he finds himself wondering if they're even worth saving.
Inexplicably, the flavor of fish fingers floods his mouth. The taste of a memory. A ginger-haired child looking after a newly-regenerated madman who's crash-landed his magic blue box in her garden.
Amy. Amy's down there. With the bomb named Bracewell.
Amy's worth saving. The rest can go hang. Maybe.
But Amy's worth it.
Amy Pond is always--always--worth anything.
