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He is not an angry person.
Not in general.
Not if he can help it.
He thinks of anger as a problem, as a part of his personality he can push away to make room for better emotions. He can feel anger, he wouldn't want to make it go away, but he knows that letting it control him would make him less than who he is.
He's the Doctor. He's a rock. Strong. He never seeks revenge, never lets his blood boil. He has a temper, but the explosions are small despite the short fuse. He gets momentarily irritated, but never angry.
Except now.
Because some part of him, some little human part of him, loved Joan.
Loves Joan.
Loves her and this tiny little town and that school and those boys. And they could've all been spared if the Family just stopped.
But they didn't. They followed, they pursued, they interfered. They hollowed out the bodies they're living in. The snotty schoolboy, the smiling maid, the overworked father, the little girl. They were all people. Once.
He can feel every beat of his hearts as he steps towards them. He can feel his pulse rise on his wrists, on his throat. His anger is a living thing running underneath his skin.
And they look up at him with a little shock, but mostly confusion.
Because they have no idea what's going to happen next.
He does.
Every neuron, every part of his oversized Time Lord brain is electrified with anger. Working on overtime. Ready to hurt. Where he'll trap them. Where they'll stay and live out their bloody forever and ever and never ever hurt anyone again. He'll hurt them the way they hurt Joan and Martha and those people and his frightened little human self.
And he doesn't usually hurt others.
Doesn't like revenge.
Right now he craves it. He wants to hear them scream in agony. Wants to know the pain is theirs.
His hearts beat and steps on the hand of Son of Mine who isn't getting away as easily as he thinks he is. The boy cries out. The sound isn't enough. He's so angry. So very, very angry.
He looks at Daughter of Mine, who has little tiny tears running down her little girl's face. That little girl is dead. He thinks about the tears on Joan's face. Those tears were real. Whatever his eyes say when he looks at Daughter of Mine silence her tears. Her face contorts into something like fear. It's good. Fear is good. She has every reason to be afraid and no way to get away.
Mother of Mine used to be Jenny. John Smith knew Jenny. Martha cared for Jenny. Jenny is dead and Mother of Mine is cowering.
Father of Mine still looks so confused. He'll learn soon. They will all learn what the fury of a Time Lord is like.
His hearts beat a little faster.
Ba-bump ba-bump. Ba-bump ba-bump.
They sound like drums.
Keeping time with his anger.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 506
Not in general.
Not if he can help it.
He thinks of anger as a problem, as a part of his personality he can push away to make room for better emotions. He can feel anger, he wouldn't want to make it go away, but he knows that letting it control him would make him less than who he is.
He's the Doctor. He's a rock. Strong. He never seeks revenge, never lets his blood boil. He has a temper, but the explosions are small despite the short fuse. He gets momentarily irritated, but never angry.
Except now.
Because some part of him, some little human part of him, loved Joan.
Loves Joan.
Loves her and this tiny little town and that school and those boys. And they could've all been spared if the Family just stopped.
But they didn't. They followed, they pursued, they interfered. They hollowed out the bodies they're living in. The snotty schoolboy, the smiling maid, the overworked father, the little girl. They were all people. Once.
He can feel every beat of his hearts as he steps towards them. He can feel his pulse rise on his wrists, on his throat. His anger is a living thing running underneath his skin.
And they look up at him with a little shock, but mostly confusion.
Because they have no idea what's going to happen next.
He does.
Every neuron, every part of his oversized Time Lord brain is electrified with anger. Working on overtime. Ready to hurt. Where he'll trap them. Where they'll stay and live out their bloody forever and ever and never ever hurt anyone again. He'll hurt them the way they hurt Joan and Martha and those people and his frightened little human self.
And he doesn't usually hurt others.
Doesn't like revenge.
Right now he craves it. He wants to hear them scream in agony. Wants to know the pain is theirs.
His hearts beat and steps on the hand of Son of Mine who isn't getting away as easily as he thinks he is. The boy cries out. The sound isn't enough. He's so angry. So very, very angry.
He looks at Daughter of Mine, who has little tiny tears running down her little girl's face. That little girl is dead. He thinks about the tears on Joan's face. Those tears were real. Whatever his eyes say when he looks at Daughter of Mine silence her tears. Her face contorts into something like fear. It's good. Fear is good. She has every reason to be afraid and no way to get away.
Mother of Mine used to be Jenny. John Smith knew Jenny. Martha cared for Jenny. Jenny is dead and Mother of Mine is cowering.
Father of Mine still looks so confused. He'll learn soon. They will all learn what the fury of a Time Lord is like.
His hearts beat a little faster.
Ba-bump ba-bump. Ba-bump ba-bump.
They sound like drums.
Keeping time with his anger.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 506
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