All Is Fair |:| A Doctor Who Fanfiction |:|

All Is Fair |:| A Doctor Who Fanfiction Part V |:|

Serenity looked back up at the Doctor, and glared at him. “And who are you, Doctor? The last of the Time Lords, or is that what you want others to believe? Perhaps you're not even a Time Lord at all...merely someone who wants to carry on their legacy. Just who are you?” She snapped.

“How dare you!” he stood up, challenging her. “I watched my people die, I watched are sworn enemy die with them! How dare you suggest such a thing! It's foul!” he growled, bearing his teeth.

“You cannot be a Time Lord, I knew the man who owned that TARDIS!!” Tears started to well up now—her voice breaking.

“I've had many faces, and to suggest that perhaps that man was one of those, is acceptable, but don't you ever suggest I am someone I'm not—ever again!!”

“You can't be...” she whispered, backing away from him, eventually hitting the bars. “My whole reason for coming...was to prove you weren't...You can't be...” She was out of breath. “He died. I watched him die!”

“Time Lords can--”

“Regenerate. I know. But surely you know, Doctor, there are times when a Time Lord cannot. This was one of those times. You can't be him. The Time Lords are gone...” she shivered.

The Doctor was utterly confused now, watching her fall into somewhat of a panic. Her complexion fell white and her eyes grew wide when they heard the sound of multiple boots walking down the corridor towards their cell.

“Listen to me,” the Doctor said, gripping her shoulders. “I'll get you out of here, I promise.”

“They've come for me,” she whispered, with a half-smile gathering herself to-gether. “I shall see you soon, Time Lord, after they're done with me—my sentence. It won't be but a minute. You're not the only one with a few more tricks up their sleeve,” she whispered. “I will give you one thing:”

“What?”

“You've definitely got his guts.” she smiled. “Maybe it's a Time Lord thing,” she chuckled, letting out a shaky sigh as the gate was opened, and her arms were grabbed and hands were cuffed.

He watched as she walked off with the Gillkan soldiers took her to what he assumed would be a torture chamber. Gillkan torture was awful—they knocked out and gassed the victim with microscopic creatures that fed off memories and fears—creating a personal nightmare that wouldn't end until the Gillkan said it would.

Pulling out of his pocket his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor broke the lock on the cell. Quietly, he opened it, and whistled to the guard not too far away, wrestling with him a bit, but eventually locking the guard up in the cell instead. Fixing his tie, he went poking around, looking for any sign of where Serenity had been taken. He used his sonic screwdriver to try and lock in on her signal—but it wouldn't pick up anything, anything at all. Even in postmortem the screwdriver would pick up any residual sense—but he was getting absolutely nothing.

He figured the torture chamber would be somewhere still on the prison block. He found a door made of heavy metal, requiring high security clearance—he figured he'd take his chances and bet it was that one. Hiding in the shadows, he waited for the prime opportunity to break in.

He saw the door begin to open, and decided then was his chance—he waited until they had cleared and they were out of sight, then made his move. He hurriedly unlocked the door with his screwdriver, and opened it carefully. Serenity was strapped down on a table, unconscious. His heart broke.

He evaluated her with his screwdriver, and found the Gillkan's plan wasn't working—there were absolutely no creatures in her whatsoever. He looked around, it looked as though they had been trying for a while.

He evaluated her again, and nearly fell backwards.

“Restorative sleep,” he whispered to himself. It was something similar to regeneration: In instances where a Time Lord wasn't necessarily mortally wounded, but instead suffering from illness or otherwise, they could put themselves into a restorative sleep—like a hibernation of sorts. But he couldn't sense anything: Nothing. No sense of any Time Lord existence.

He tried not to panic or get worked up, and picked her up, carrying her out of the torture chamber, and to the nearest teleportation pad. Resetting the coordinates, the Doctor teleported them back to where the TARDIS was, and hurried in—still carrying her in her arms. Locking them in, he laid her down on the grated floor, quickly pulling out his stethoscope, listening to her heart—she was stable.

The notion of checking for a second heart was strong.

He resisted.

But his hand...it moved to the other side of her chest...

The he heard it:

The unique sound...the heartbeat of a Time Lord.

He jumped back, startled even more. His own hearts were racing with shock and morbid confusion. How could he not know? She didn't a use Chameleon Arch—she was completely Time Lord. But he couldn't understand why he--

Then he felt it.

That quiver in his mind.

She'd been blocking his senses.