Chapter Text
The Valeyard stood in the flaming remains of this wretched town on this even more wretched planet, with the Master standing with a bored , of all things, expression in front of her, unaware about how much his previous words affected her.
“You’re me, why do you care so much about killing yourself?”
“You’re me, why do you care so much about killing-”
“You’re me, why do you care-”
“You’re-”
“-Me.”
“I’m not-” She choked, “I-I’m not you.” What-
The Master tilted his head, a deep frown on his face. And what a lovely frown it was, one she used to be so familiar with in those long years in the Vault ( What h-). He didn’t smile often, back then, or, in general, as she noticed, but she didn’t mind. His frowns were just as beautiful as a smile were, to her, at least. (What have-)
“Oh? You know a lot about me for someone who isn’t me. So who are you, then? Because you certainly cannot be the Doctor. ”
The Valeyard’s eyes widen, her hearts practically shattering on the spot. She suddenly becomes aware of where she is, what she is. She looks at her hands, ( What have I-) coded in dried blood that is not her’s, standing on the ruins of a town she destroyed. For what? For what?
Funangerfunagngerfunfunfunfunfunfunfun-
She screams, gripping at her head. The drums were gone but she felt as if they were pounding in her mind, in her ears, once again. She crashes to her knees, hot, angry , tears rushing down her face. She wishes they were hot enough to burn off her skin, to rid herself of the taintment, of the murder, of the sadism she performed like a twisted ballet, a sick dance during this regeneration. Through her sorrow, her laughable sorrow ( She did this she did this she did this, how dare she fee l guilty ?). The Master looks upon her with disgust (oh, of course, he has not been in the Vault yet…), mixed with the pity she does not deserve.
“Who are you?” He asks.
With as much scorn as she can gather, all directed at herself, but pathetically made to sound directed towards him, “I’m the Valeyard.”
She says ‘Valeyard’ for she is not the Doctor . Before her name change was to get rid of every last scrap of that Time Lord who tried fooling herself and others that they were good and just. But now? It is because that good and just person she spent so long despising almost as much as the Master can never, never be her.
The Valeyard sees at the Master’s eyes widen a fragment, before returning to his stoic expression. He has stepped away, she could almost taste his fear, but she does not take pleasure in it as she would have only a few minutes ago. Down on her knees, now, she lifts her head to try to look the Master in his eyes, but before she could even get her chin into the air, a shot blows out, and blood is reaching up her throat, down her mouth.
The Master looked down at her one more time, before turning away, leaving her to die in the place she had rampaged. She resists the urge to beg him to come back, to hold her, to save her, so she has someone who will listen to her when she says that she didn’t mean to- ( But she did. She did she did she did she did-). The sound of his TARDIS dematerializing rings in her ears, mixing with the sound of her heavy breaths.
Regeneration energy builds up under her skin, and she considers trapping it in her pours, so it will not build up, so it will not envelope her in its painful hug and turn her into something, someone new. But as she screams into the air, gripping the wound of where she was shot, covering her murder-evident hands in blood that belongs to her, she decides against it.
She cannot die, as a monster like herself does not deserve it. She must live with the pain, regenerate into someone better, better than her, of course, but even they will have to live with it. And she hopes it hurts.
What have I done?
Her screams last for hours, even when the voice deepens.