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Season four, episode twelve:
The Stolen Earth - Part Two.
- ~ -
Lynnette couldn't keep her eyes off of him even if she tried. His eyes were glossy, was it the horror? Or was it the remnants of ash that fluttered in the midst of his home's destruction and clogged his vision ever since?
She didn't know. Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe she did. She couldn't tell, not when he looked like that, some shattered semblance of himself, clutching onto a purpose he thought the universe gave him as his only lifeline. His identity as a saviour.
Crumbling at the words of the man he'd been unable to save.
Davros held no hesitation as he spoke, "It took one stronger than you," His voice was raspy and mocking at the same moment, "Dalek Caan himself."
"I flew into the wild and the fire..."
Lynnette felt another punch of sickness hit her.
"I danced and died a thousand times."
Caan's tentacles wriggled in a horrible amalgamation of limbs, twisting and flicking, like rattle snacks as they swished through the air. Somehow, Lynnette was reminded of a child, waving their arms in the air proudly. Parts of its flesh rose and fell with a rotten heart, his singular yellow eye gleaming, staring at everything and nothing at all, alive and dying all at once.
Davros tapped his fingers against the metal of his machine, "Emergency Temporal Shift took him back to the Time War itself."
"That's impossible!" The Doctor hissed, teeth bared, eyes burning, "The entire war is time-locked!"
"And yet he succeeded," Pride. Smugness. Pettiness. Simple matter of fact. Lynnette couldn't tell, Davros' worst gave away nothing, concealed beneath a purpose even the Doctor could barely grasp, "Oh, it cost him his mind. But imagine, a single, simple Dalek succeeded where Emperors and Time Lord have failed. A testament, don't you think, to my remarkable creations?"
He sounded like a father watching his child win at sports day and yet it lacked all the warmth that it should have come with.
The restraint almost seemed to strangle the Doctor as he accused, "And you made a new race of Daleks?"
"I gave myself to them," Lynnette froze as he reached towards the clasps on his clothing, dread searing through her stomach, "Quite literally."
