Work Text:
The Doctor unnerves you. This is fact.
He unnerved you before Capitano's death and unnerves you even more now that you realize just how much the man protected you from the Doctor.
You're not even supposed to be here. But where was here anyway? The last thing you remember is heading to bed then waking up to the Doctor's face.
Dottore stalks around your surprisingly comfortable seat in his lab not speaking but smiling at you like you're a fresh masterpiece something he itches to touch yet knows he'd taint and ruin if he did.
The way he looks at you makes you think you'd rather deal with his segments. Honestly you're not sure if you should miss his segments in the slightest but you kinda do.
Maybe the little one even if he was a major brat who would mock you whenever he got the chance. Maybe even the one with the stupid laugh and ridiculous outfit to match. Ok maybe not that segment he got waaay too excited about drawing your blood and taking other samples.
But in the end you're still not sure if you'd prefer to deal with younger, more outwardly violent, and angry rather than the calm surface this Dottore exuded. You can practically feel the rage he doesn't express as you deny him from taking your chin in his fingers. He backs off but you know he will simply try another approach within the hours you're stuck here with him.
You wonder just when everyone will realize you're gone, if anyone realizes you're gone at all. Just how much did he distort everyone's memories to get you here? The thought makes you shiver and like a gentleman Dottore covers your shoulders with his coat. Although you feel warmer you don't want his coat that smells like chemicals and blood.
You want the coat of a man who smelt like sage and the roses of the garden you walked through together. You want the firm and gentle touch of the man who guided you to your duties and how to defend yourself in this horribly cruel world. You don't want this horrific excuse of a doctor to rearrange the world in his own image. You want the dead to return for just a bit longer so you can have him for just a little longer and tell him everything you wanted to say in person.
The tears that fall from you are wiped up by cruel hands and you hate yourself for leaning into them.