Bedroom Hymns (Fitz)

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She held her breath the whole time she tinkered with the Dalek, her eyes shifting constantly between it and Fitz as he walked off shouting angrily. She bit her lip anxiously as she finally pried off the dome of The Dalek's casing. What she found had her reeling back away from it. The Dalek was still alive, if only barely. “FITZ!! Over here!” She called out as she willed herself to move back over to it. It groaned weakly as she placed the nodes of her device around the inner electronics, trying to link into it's memory banks.

“Doc... tor.”

“He was here then?” she asked, sucking in a deep breath. She was getting a little more at ease. This Dalek was no threat to her, it seemed. It looked as though it had been completely disarmed.

“Y... yesssssss.”

“Where? Is he still here?”

“Why should The Daleks help you, Time Lord? You.. are... inferior” it's voice broke off in a strained moan, like it was barely clinging to life.

“Look, you defiant little shit.” she huffed as she reached into the casing to grab the slimy little Dalek by... what could only pass for it's face.. and squeezed. “You're in no position to play games with me.. Either talk or I'll rip the information right out of your skull.” The Dalek shrieked as it's tentacles weakly wrapped around her arm trying to pull her off of itself. “You're choice. And I can promise, I'll be a lot nicer about it than Fitz will.. Where.. Is.. He!?”

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Fitz sighed anxiously as she began to question the Dalek. Of course the Doctor was here – what else could the Daleks have been after? Fitz had become less certain they were after world domination and more certain that they were just after the Doctor’s attention over the few brief encounters. Fitz’s fists shook at his side, glaring daggers into the pathetic creature before them. As the Dalek refused to help her, his shoulders trembled. There was a feral gleam in the grey eyes, but the man stayed silent. The last thing that he needed to happen was the Dalek refusing to tell them because he lost his temper.

But as the Dalek shrieked from pain, Fitz decided he needed to take action. He grabbed it from her hands, twisting its pathetic little body into opposite directions and pulling, stretching its body out. The Goddess had given the Dalek a slight warning – a lot nicer than Fitz will. Fitz’s hands were still shaking from anger, feeling the urge to split the ugly thing in half and stomp its corpse into the dirt. But that wouldn’t solve anything. He pulled the Dalek up to his face, his lips set in a stern line and his eyes a cold grey.

“Tell me where the Doctor is,” he said, his voice flat. “If you’ve harmed him, I promise that things aren’t going to be nice for you. Any of you. I’ll keep you alive, but just barely,” he snarled. He knew that it was just talk – Fitz knew that he would do a lot of things for the Doctor, but torture wasn’t one. But the Dalek didn’t need to know that. Goddess didn’t need to know that. Fitz wasn’t even sure it was the truth – his teeth were grinding in rage and torture was looking quite appealing. “Tell me where my Doctor is!”

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“Tell me where my Doctor is!”

The Dalek flailed with a shrill squeal as Fitz's grip tightened on it's boneless body. It's tentacles reached to coil around Fitz's arm in an attempt to pry him off, but to no avail. “The.. Doc-tor... is safe.. he.. is.. Not the intended target.” The Dalek suddenly erupted into a fit of maddened giggles as it's tentacles went limp. It let out a sharp exhale before it stopped moving all together. It was dead. Taryn hesitently coiled her fingers onto his shoulder. “Let me take it, Fitz.. It may be dead but.. maybe I can find out what it meant.. It should still have some residual surface memories I can tap into before everything flickers out”. Taryn was trying to explain it in a way he could understand without using the big worded technobabble that most Time Lords were infamous for.

She gingerly pried it from Fitz's fingers and she squirmed in disgust. It was sullied and cold before but now it was clamy and just.. disgusting as the freshly dead Dalek's body began to seep a slimy viscous liquid. She closed her eyes as she tried to sort through what was now only a stir of memories that seemed to be growing quieter and quieter. “Come on Doctor... Where are you?” Taryn was still for several moments before gasping as if she had just come up from a long dive, struggling to take in air.

“There's a drop ship.. About a mile north from here.. Fitz.” she let the Dalek drop from her hands as she looked up into his steely grey eyes. “They're after you” she finally breathed. “They believe.. that without you to aid The Doctor's memories.. He will be no threat to The Daleks. It's their intention to keep you from him. Fitz.. They mean to kill you.. and then The Doctor.. You're both in danger.”