Rekindles Of Hope Within The Darkest Of Places:

Chapter 1- Canon divergence:

They were both very well aware of what they could do to people that stayed dead and were a living hell to people who were able to survive.

He frowned down at her, a tightness gripping his chest.

Fucking coward.

For all the grief she gave him about running from her problems, she left him twice in the span of ten minutes. It would have infuriated him if he wished he could follow her into the sweet oblivion of nothingness.

But he couldn't.

This evil- and damn it, he would have to say painfully gorgeous- woman had to give him hope. All as he was about to end it all. To give up.

He had lost everything, and his archenemy (and best friend) had given him a sliver of hope for the future... and, Rassilon, damn it, she did it in the most heart-wrenching way.

That cruel, cruel woman.

His hearts swore and plummeted all at the same time.

He should hate her. Yell about the unfairness of it all, and limp back to his TARDIS and die in peace... but, yet, he found that he couldn't.

Instead, he sat down, placing his worst (did he mention, best?) enemy into his lap and curled around her.

He doesn't know when the bomb goes off. His sense of time starts to fail (he would have panicked if he wasn't so damn numb to it all) yet he notices the searing pain that ripples in his back. Layers of skin upon skin tears and splits until it jolts his organs forward, splatting them violently against his body.

His kidney is the first to fail- always the first to go. And he doesn't blame it. He wants to quit too. To just STOP.

But he couldn't. The time lords made sure of that. Clara had brought him back and made him stay. They knew he would always cheat death when given the chance to.

It was some poor, cosmic joke, and, yet, he just can't bring himself to just give in.

Because this time was different.

SHE was here.

The Master.

The Mistress.

Missy.

Out of every timeline- out of every possibility- they end up here. Her, dying in his arms, while he cradles her soon-to-be-regenerated body. Him wishing for a merciful end to his torture and loss that would never come. And he tries so hard to care- because damn it.

They're going to survive and she's still going to be angry. To be livid. No words would express the hatred and loathing inside her (or his?) hearts... because she (the Master) is the only one that's allowed to kill him.

A mixture of fondness and dread fills his last moments as he falls forwards (body nearly crushing her small, but powerful frame) before he slips into oblivion, dreading ( and secretly hoping. Always bloody hoping!) of a Master-filled future.

The memories distract him at first, allowing for a few seconds of peace until pain wrecks his body, followed by another wave and then another. His body grows hot- to unbearable heats (way past fever levels, even for those warm blooded-humans)- until pure agony of a thousand suns burns his body. His head tilts back in a silent scream for death as he's pulled apart from the inside out and rearranged, being pulled and forcibly crushed back together under the pressure.

Every atom, every molecule, changing, adapting into a new form. One he doesn't even know, but will both come to resent and love.

He can feel the same energy coming from the position on the floor, feel her agony as it tears through his tattered mental shields and straight into his mind as if it was a bit of paper.

It doubles the pain and he is on the verge of passing out. Yet he enders, hearing clanks, tears, and hisses echoes as his ship falls apart... and he's so, so, so sorry. He promised to not try to regenerate inside her. To find somewhere else that wasn't as delicate as her interior workings. Yet, he failed to honor such wishes. His thoughts were too occupied with Missy and the Master (one and the same, but two different points in their timeline. Two versions of the same consciousness, but one has more experience than the other) that he forgot his self-promise.

He tries to send out an apology to her. To say that he is sorry, but finds he cannot.

His defenses were broken. His brain and body are exposed and he can barely push past the pain.

Deep down, he knew his efforts were futile. That she would understand...

It gives her a chance to change too. She almost always did. Sometimes, the memories were too painful, even for her. Many ghosts lived in her halls; haunted her rooms, and the change in interior pushes the pain to the background. But, he knows they are also there. Always lurking in the dark ready to pounce and make him remember.

The change just keeps them hidden, void from sight. And he's ever so grateful, even if she can't have the same escape she gives him. All he could do is talk to her, including her, respect her, repair her and she is more than grateful for the effort. No matter how many times they fought, no matter how many grudges she held, she would always care for and be there for her thief.

And he is beyond ecstatic and a little sad.

This time, he promises to up his game. To be there for both of them. To show them both the wonders of the universe and all it holds. He would try harder to be kind, to be understanding. Because Rassilion knows, they need it.

With his final vow, he feels the last pieces of himself reform and snap into place.

A new body. A new face. New legs, arms, and torso. Yet as this new body snaps out of it, something feels wrong. They stumble about, trying to get their bearings but, despite their best efforts to stay conscious, their vision is going dark.

They stumble over to Missy (the Master) but fail to see them properly under the fire and sparks that flood the control room.

Before they could do anything, there was a large gust of wind from the ship's cooling fans, pushing them towards the door.

The master (is she still Missy? Are they even a she anymore?) is flung outside, unable to grab on to anything as their body effortlessly slides through the doors and off into the night sky.

They stand, horrified, watching her friend fall to the ground, unconscious and alone. They cling to the rail, holding on desperately as they could, but they know their hands are slipping. Their face is twisted in horror as the echo of destruction to their vessel makes it through her hazy mind before another gust of wind makes them let go.

The next thing they know is that she's falling through midair, unprotected and freshly regeneration and they plead to survive this. To uncover Missy (the master's?) new body and just SORT THINGS OUT. To show them (him? Her?) that there are benefits to being kind- to doing good for the world- and that they've been doing it all wrong.

There's little hope behind this thought. But high off of regeneration energy and the last moments of coherency, she remembers the hope and pleads things would be different this time. Pleads to the universe that they can finally get their friend back.

And, with that thought, her world turns to black and her body is thrown front-first into a skylight.

TBC:

P.S. Looking to see if anyone will be willing to co-write with us on this. Please DM me if you are interested or want more details. Thank you.

(Next chapter should be up by tomorrow night- 2nd February.)