Work Text:
Judas had been lingering outside the compound for at least ten minutes.
Through the window, he longingly stared at the Doctor, who was in a struggle with a test subject, hitting them with a hammer over and over until they fell unconscious.
Judas sighed dreamily.
"Lord Dottore is as charming as ever."
Another sigh, but this time, defeated. Judas' hands trembled slightly. He slowly sank to the ground, into a crouch, and stared down at his hands; his red, cold-bitten fingertips.
"God..."
Judas dropped to his knees, hands grasping at wet snow. He slammed his forehead onto the ground and let out a frustrated yell through his teeth.
"AHHHHHHH!! RAARRGHHH!!!"
Judas scrambled away, struggling to run in the tundra with his well worn boots.
"I’LL NEVER SHOW MY FACE IN THE LAB AGAINNNNNN!"
The cause for Judas’ despair started yesterday, when Judas enlisted the help of Lord Tartaglia to make a French-style chocolate cake for Valentine’s day. Four layers of rich chocolate sponge with dark chocolate mascarpone cream filling in-between, with a silky chocolate ganache on the outside and strawberries and pink hearts perched atop, crowning the dessert.
“Perfect.” Judas smiled, pleased.
This was Judas’ first time baking and Tartaglia was a patient teacher. This cake had the same warm and nutty scent that Judas had become accustomed to in the Doctor’s kitchen. Dottore had previously baked chocolate flavoured treats as an alternate activity to certain activities which lead to unfortunate Fatui agents going ‘missing’. Most would assume Il Dottore’s culinary skills would involve some sort of cannibalistic method, but the man is quite particular when it comes to his palate. In fact, he is quite pretentious when it comes to food.
Fortunately for Judas, Tartaglia’s natural skills as a house husband(?) came in extremely handy.
“You sure you don't want me to make another one so you can have some? You’re drooling, comrade…”
“No need. Lord Dottore will worry to death if his beloved assistant is gone for too long,” Judas said, smirking at Tartaglia’s doubtful expression. “Or at least that's what I like to believe.”
Judas pondered a little and then remembered that he was in the middle of speaking.
“I’ve got a date with a cadaver tonight. At the incinerator. Otherwise, our favourite doctor might make me into his next one.”
“Fine. Your loss,” Tartaglia said, but it was lost on Judas as he eagerly claimed his baked goods and took his leave. “Don't blame me if you get peckish…”
…
The following night passed as a blur. Judas’ sleep was restless. He tossed and turned as strange dreams wracked his mind. Patterns and chromes rather than concepts. Booming, invisible presences and audible shapes. It was an endless cycle of waking up and falling asleep again.
As soon as he found some sort of respite from the insomnia, he found himself not in his usual sleeping spot.
This wasn't his bed.
This was the kitchen. Judas’ gaze landed upon a murder scene.
And the victim?
The very cake that Judas had so lovingly hand-crafted. He dejectedly picked up a small piece and consumed it.
“It’s delicious.”
His hard work was now a mess of half-eaten crumbs and splattered buttercream on the kitchen floor.
“Am I… A monster?”
In his lament, Judas continued eating the rest of the cake off the floor. Not only did he ruin the cake, but he wasted Tartaglia’s time and money too. Oh, and Dottore. Judas pictured the disappointment on that poor man’s face.
“I don't deserve to be his assistant!” He yelled, snotty and tearful.
Judas decided to sleep outside in the snowstorm, as penance. He furrowed into the snow, accustoming himself to the biting cold. At least it was cold enough to knock him unconscious.
…
After running away from the lab, Judas sulkily wandered around, between the pines.
At a bend in the road, Judas found a dead squirrel. It had clearly been mauled. There are teeth marks on its neck and its expression is frozen in fear - the last emotion it probably felt. Ever.
Judas kicked it, for no particular reason or purpose. He startled as a kitten landed on his face, from one of the trees.
“What the… A cat?”
The tiny cat darted towards the squirrel, picked it up by the scruff and dashed away to a cottage.
“Why does a little guy like that choose to kill a squirrel twice its size?” Judas chuckled amused.
He watched as the little critter dropped the bloodied kill onto the porch. It pawed and scratched against the door until an elderly woman came out.
“Not another one…” The woman picked up the kitten and it happily purred against her chest. “Silly little one. How will I get rid of the smell?”
Judas hid as he spotted two Fatui agents approaching the cottage. The woman frowned, petting the cat nervously. Judas guessed that they did not visit for a nice chat over goulash.
“I don’t have any more money for you people. What now?”
“The court may have exempted you from these taxes now but I swear I won’t let you go easily. Unless you give me the location of your daughter, I’ll pester you every day, you old hag!”
The other agent snatched the cat from her arms, eliciting a displeased yowl.
“Just leave us alone,” the woman wailed. “You’re hurting her!”
Judas watched silently from behind the tree, eyes narrowed. This is none of his business. He turned to leave, wanting to get back to the lab as soon as possible but stopped as he heard a more pained yowl from the kitten.
“There’s nothing illegal about killing a pest to get information. I won’t hurt your daughter, I just need her location. Now spea–”
His orders extinguished into a strained choke as a knife split through his throat. The elderly woman’s eyes widened as Judas casually retrieved the knife from the corpse.
“Hey! That’s a crime against the Fair Lady! Treason! Surrender in the name of the Lady–”
A thump resounded as the body hit the ground. The kitten leapt back into the relieved embrace of the woman. She looked at Judas, still trembling in fear. Judas glanced back up and gave a warm smile.
“Ah, sorry for the mess. I’ll clean this up for you, ma’am.” Judas picked up both bodies and looked around. “May I use this wheelbarrow? And take the squirrel?”
“Y… Yes. Of course. I–” She looked him over, almost reassured as he disposed of the bodies and cleaned up the blood.
She took both of his hands and looked into his eyes, searching.
“Thank you. Those men have been constantly harassing me and my daughter who lives in the city. I don’t think I could have taken any more visits.”
“Hm? It was nothing at all. In fact, you’ve done me a favour. I know someone who will really appreciate this gift!” Judas giggled a little, a little too giddy. That cat somewhat inspired Judas.
Then he noticed the woman’s concern. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Ahh… hm. Don’t worry! A few missing agents won’t raise any questions.” He collected himself and handed her a chemical bottle. “If you use this cleaner, the blood stains and smell will leave. And don’t tell anyone we had this encounter, alright? Bye, bye now. Oh, and happy Valentine's Day!”
And before she could respond, Judas quickly headed back to the lab. He’d forgotten about the late chocolate cake now.
Judas hummed as he used his knife to carve out the heart of one body. It took a lot of hacking and chopping but as soon as he was done, he triumphantly held the roughly extracted heart.
“Lord Dottore is going to be so happy~”
He tucked the organ into a cloth and carefully put it in the wheelbarrow. He happily wheeled the cart back to the lab.
…
Il Dottore was in the process of abusing a little four wheeled robot. Dottore rested his feet on it, leaning back in his arm chair as it twitched and sparked pitifully. He poured himself a glass of merlot and sipped it slowly.
He let out a bored sigh.
“That fool…”
He grabbed the remote and switched on the TV-box. It opened to a sappy sit-com that Dottore planned for them to hate-watch together.
Dottore’s gaze fell to the jar of formaldehyde on the desk. An exact replica of his heart which took almost three weeks to grow. It was expensive to obtain the correct inhibitors and growth factors. In fact, he is almost out of research funding now. But that doesn’t matter to Dottore. Judas has been a competent assistant over the years. It is only fair he gets a well thought out present.
“Do you think he will appreciate my gift? It’s not too cheesy, is it?”
The robot’s faceless expression seemed to provoke Dottore’s anger. He abruptly picked it up and held it close to his face.
“Are you suggesting he ran away? Preposterous! Don’t irritate me, peon.”
The robot didn’t respond, being inanimate object and all.
“How DARE you address me with such insubordination!” He slammed the wine glass against the machine, as his rage simmered over. The liquid seeped into the machine, causing sparks and a mini explosion.
Dottore frowns as he pulls at the wiring.
“Hm. Useless.”
Then, he heard the jingling of keys and dropped the machine.
“Judas…” There may have been a slight tinge of relief in Dottore’s voice, but it didn't presently matter. Dottore’s mind was occupied with the various torture methods to practice on Judas now. How dare he disappear today! Utterly illogical.
“JUDAS!” He yelled, voice a mix of glee and rage. “Where on earth have you been? I swear if you don't have a good explanation, I’ll–”
The words died on his tongue as he watched Judas struggling to wheel a cart through the door.
“Phew…” Judas wiped the sweat from his brow.
Dottore stilled.
Slowly he turned his head toward Judas.
“What… is the meaning of this?”
Judas lifted up the tarp, revealing the mangled bodies.
“Happy Valentine’s day!”
Dottore’s eyes narrowed. A slow unnerving grin stretched across his face as he rubbed his hands together.
"Ohhhhohoho! Judassss~!" He practically sang. “What a thoughtful little present!"
Suddenly, he lunged forward and grabbed Judas by the shoulders in mania. "Was this your idea? Did you pluck them from some back alley?" His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "...Or did you kill them yourself?"
Judas blushed.
“I did kill them, I suppose.” He admitted.
Dottore grabbed Judas’ hands and looked directly into his eyes.
“Wonderful! You aren't as useless as you look!” His crimson eyes twinkled as he squeezed Judas’ hands. “And the squirrel, pray tell, what of that?”
Judas tilted his head. “You like squirrels, don't you? I didn't kill it, but I thought it would be a nice touch.”
“Oh, my silly assistant.” He spread out his arms and laughed. “This calls for a grand celebration! To the living room!”
Dottore paused.
“But first…”
He stepped closer, cupping Judas’ face in his hands – proximity so close that their noses almost touched.
Judas had to choke back a gasp as his heart beat quickened. He closed his eyes and leaned in. Finally…
“OW!” Judas flinched.
Instead of being met with a kiss, Judas had found that Dottore had flicked him on the forehead. Hard.
“You're still LATE! Never do that again.”
Judas instinctively brought his hands up to rub his forehead. He met Dottore’s gaze again, and noticed how vulnerable his eyes were. A rare expression for him, almost childish on a grown man. Judas chuckled at that. What a silly Doctor.
“What in god's name is so amusing?” Dottore barked out, his words entirely eliminating the vulnerability from his face.
“It’s just…” Judas decided to tease him. “I don’t recall you asking me to be on time? You should ask me out properly next time~.”
“Grr… Don’t mock me.”
He pushed Judas’ face away and straightened up. His voice turned serious.
“My assistant should know me well enough by now to know exactly what I expect,” he said. “But fine, I’ll bite. Won’t you accompany me tonight?”
“I thought you’d never ask! Unless you’re planning to steal my organs.”
Dottore did not confirm nor deny anything. He simply blinked like a frog, one eyelid slightly delayed.
“Do you like my gift?” Judas' eyes twinkled.
“Tch.” Dottore’s demeanor changed as he saw the childish look on Judas’ face. He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away, walking deeper into the manor, not stopping to check if Judas was still there.
“Acceptable.”
“Acceptable?” Judas followed after him. “You adored it! I saw that blush! Dottore! Hey! Dottore! Don't ignore me! DottoreDottoreDottoreDotto–"
“Quiet! You are still on thin ice. No more talking.”
Judas shut his mouth and grinned to himself. Despite his words, Dottore seemed to be in a good mood.
After storing the bodies in the lab, Dottore grabbed Judas’ arm and dragged him to their living quarters. He couldn't hold his delight, giggling and muttering to himself as he practically shoved Judas down to sit on the couch.
“Behold!” He exclaimed, gesturing vaguely at the living room.
The first thing Judas noticed was that the grand piano was taken out of storage. The TV-box was still playing the same episode of that sitcom; and in front of it, atop the coffee table, sat two glasses of red wine, next to a silver tray of chocolate covered strawberries. There was another plate but the contents were obscured by a silver dome.
“The perfect date, isn't it? Apart from the broken robot.”
Judas took the cloth-covered heart from his pocket as Dottore disposed of the scraps of metal on the floor.
“I’ve got something else for you, Dottore,” Judas started.
Dottore dramatically brandished a jar-shaped gift box from who knows where.
“I, too, have a gift for you! Let us unveil them simultaneously. I’m sure mine is far more extravagant but I’m willing to appreciate whatever pathetic thing you’ve cobbled together.”
Judas shook his head and started counting down.
“3…2…1!”
Upon opening their presents and seeing the hearts, they both looked at each other incredulously and couldn't help the smiles that reached their faces.
Dottore spoke with a huff of laughter, less maniacal than usual. He spoke lowly.
“Are we truly this unoriginal? How utterly cliché… Where did you obtain yours?”
“I took it from one of the bodies.”
“HAH! Then it is clear that the superior gifter is me. Mine was cultivated in the lab for two weeks! An exact replica of my own heart.”
Judas put his hand on Dottore’s chest, leaning into him. “I already have your heart~ Why would I need another?”
The closeness and Judas’ taunting words had Dottore holding his breath.
“YOU! Sentimental nonsense is prohibited in this house. Unhand me!”
He pushed Judas away and occupied himself by picking up the heart, turning it in his hand. Judas really pisses him off.
The heart itself was messily extracted, with bruises from rough handling and serrations from a blade too blunt for surgical incisions. Though Dottore could see that Judas had attempted to follow his extraction protocol.
“Did you remove this with a butcher's knife? Horrible scalpel work. Totally unpreserved. You think a damn cloth will keep it from rotting?”
“I tried my best!”
“... I’ll accept it.” A strange warmth lay in his words. There was something in his expression that suggested he was secretly pleased with the coincidence.
For the rest of the evening, they lazily watched TV and sat in each other's presence. Dottore even humoured Judas’ request to play him the piano. It was simple; sweet, perhaps romantic. Judas knew Dottore must have swallowed a lot of pride to partake in the sentimental nonsense of Valentine's day. On a previous Valentine’s day, he might have simply shut himself in the lab for the whole day. Perhaps Dottore is becoming senile.
“Thinking hard, are you? Stop that before you hurt yourself.”
Dottore brought Judas’ attention to the table.
“Eat.” He brought a chocolate-covered strawberry to Judas’ mouth.
“What's under that one?” Judas pointed at the covered plate.
Dottore with a flourish, lifted the cloche to reveal… a slice of chocolate cake? THE chocolate cake.
Judas gasped, as if seeing a ghost. Because it practically was one!
“Where– Where did you find THAT?!”
“In the fridge, obviously.” Dottore snickered at Judas’ outburst. “Where else? Don’t tell me being out in the snow gave you a permanent brain freeze?”
“But I ruined it…”
“Ruined it? You’re not making any sense, boy! I simply saw a cake box in the fridge last night and stole a singular slice! I don't care if you were saving it. MUAHAHA!”
Dottore’s laughter faltered as he processed teary eyes in Judas’ expression.
“Oh…” He frantically looked for a handkerchief and handed it to Judas. “J-Just have the rest if it bothers you so much! Cease with the waterworks!”
“No… It’s not that. I just… I baked this for you but I–.”
Dottore cackled loudly. “YOU? HAH! Don’t make me laugh, Judas.”
Dottore saw that Judas was serious.
“Oh. That wasn’t an attempt at humour?”
“I had help,” he said. “But I… I don't know what happened… Last night, I accidentally ate it in my sleep!”
“Gluttonous hog,” Dottore cackled at Judas’ admittance of guilt, as he savoured a bite. “Then, it was lucky that I snatched up a slice before you could get your grubby hands on it.”
Judas sighed and rested his head on Dottore’s shoulder, watching as Dottore savoured it.
“Did you truly bake this?”
“I already told you I did.”
“Perhaps an anomaly, then.” He picked up the last piece. “This flavour and texture surpasses mediocre levels of baking. I daresay this is something only a genius could achieve, like me– JUDAS!”
Judas chomped on the dessert, stealing it from Dottore’s grasp.
“Hehehehe. It really is yummy.”
<3