Before Falling yet After Drowning

Chapter Seven

It wasn't possible. The man who stood before the Doctor; could it really be him? Or was it just some poser who'd read up on the Doctor's file- not that he had one. The man wore a trim black suit that looked like it had cost a fortune. It was perfectly pressed, the crisp white shirt underneath giving contrast to the blackness of his eyes. Eyes that bore into the Doctor, prevented him from looking away. Because those eyes could see right through him. Through the bow tie, through the quirky jacket. They saw the person underneath the regenerations. And only one person knew the Doctor that well. "Koschei," the Doctor breathed.

The man before him smiled with closed lips, shrugging up his shoulders as though he was embarrassed, though his glee was obvious. "You got me."

He sauntered over to the Doctor, twirled a finger through his long brown hair. "Oh, Doctor, you've always had such a knack for the hair. But hey," he paced away, then turned back. "I can't exactly complain." He gestured to his new body.

"But- I don't understand," the Doctor began.

"Save it," the other man raised his eyebrows and twitched his lips to the side. "You want to know how I came back. Because I was dead, wasn't I? Silly Doctor. You should know by now that death and I don't play by the same rules."

He ran a hand through his own hair. "I've been waiting for you, Doctor. It's been so long."

The Doctor remained silent. What could he possibly say? He'd seen this man die countless times. Yet he always came back. But the last time; last time he'd been sure he was gone. Sure that he truly was the last of his kind. And now that he was back- well, he couldn't help but feel the weight on his shoulders lift a little bit, even though the predicament that he was in.

The Doctor turned his head to assess the room he was in. All of the walls were cement, and there he could find no sight of windows to break up the encompassing concrete. The only exit was the door through which he had entered, now guarded by the man who had brought him in. Not a man, of course. It was basic knowledge to someone like the Doctor that underneath its helmet and all-covering armor was a Sycorax. He hadn't seen one of those in countless years. It seemed like a lifetime ago- back when he'd worn a different face. Back when he'd been a different man.

Koschei glanced at the Doctor. Noticed him evaluating the door. "Now, now, now, Doctor," he chided. "Why would you want to leave our nice little chat?"

"Oh no," the Doctor shook his head. "I'm all about chatting. Chit chat, that's my middle name. No, actually it's not. If anyone tells you that, don't believe them."

The Doctor began to pace, paralleling Koschei. "But the thing is," he continued. "If you want to talk to me, you have to let Sherlock and John go. They have nothing to do with this."

Koschei smirked. "Silly Doctor. They have everything to do with this. What, you think I've just been idle while you flew around in your little TARDIS? You have your playthings, I have mine. But unlike you, I don't just go around losing them. Mine can actually put up a fight, which makes disposing of them even more fun."

The Doctor could feel his face get heated. His blood boiled with every beat of his hearts. Striking him over and over again. Ponds. Ponds. Ponds. He lost them. It was all his fault. But he wasn't about to lose Sherlock and John too, no matter if he'd only known them for a couple of days.

The Doctor glared at the man who stood before him. He could feel the tangle of hatred and love knotted over the centuries radiating off of his skin. He spat, "You wouldn't dare."

Koschei put on an innocent look, unfazed by the Doctor's rage. "Try me." He stepped closer to the Doctor so that their chests were almost touching. The Doctor was slightly taller, so the other timelord had to look up to make eye contact. Brown eyes met black, and the Doctor recalled all their past confrontations. They all seemed to be the same, even though the faces were different. Behind the eyes were the same two people. The same lonely people stuck in a loop that never ended, searching for each other yet also running away.