Work Text:
“Oh for fuck’s sake, sir. Have some class.”
Tallow had hoped that, after all that stuff with the girl and that VR nightmare, FLINTLOCK HQ would return to a sense of normalcy. Sadly, that was not quite the case, today. It started out as one; waking up to their special alarm clock, a sound breakfast of coffee and more coffee, and a morning spent chasing that stupid chemical-scarred hedgehog across the worlds when he got out. Again. Someone should REALLY increase security for that slippery sod.
And now, Their own supervisor was standing before them...in DRAG. Oh, wait. His “alternate persona” or whatever it was, made on some twisted resort island as a way to combat some urges. And now here he was, dressed in “scene” clothing tight enough to show off everything they DIDN’T want to see, fake breasts and so much makeup it was a wonder he wasn’t leaning forward at all times from the sheer weight of it.
“’Sir’ ain’t in today, hun,” Wander spoke, the black ring around his neck turning his voice into that of a husky woman, “Cassidy gets to drive, today. Besides, he was swamped with work. I think he could do with a little R n’ R, if you get what I’m saying?”
“But it’s...i-its inappropriate, sir,” Tallow tried their best to save face, even if this was absolutely creeping them out, “Even if it’s...what, exactly are a bunch of wounded soldiers gonna get out of such a performance?”
“Well, takes their mind off of the bullet wounds, doesn’t it?”
“Sir, I...” Tallow tried their best, but it simply wasn’t enough. Hand clasped to their face, they let out a frustrated sigh, “Oh, forget it. I’ll see that Surgeon is made aware of this indecency. SURGEON!” Tallow turned and screamed down the corridor, spooking everyone else going about their day. Apart from that, there was no response. Tallow looked around, lost, “...Surgeon? Where is he? Usually he’s not too far off, that’s how these stories tend to work.”
“Eh, you go look for him, hon,” Cassidy said, flashing one of her trademark grins and walking sultrily down the corridor, “I’ve got a show to put on~”
“God, don’t say it like that...” Tallow face-palmed once again, and set off further into the complex.
Surgeon didn’t tend to travel far from a few spots - if he wasn’t in his office, he was getting something in the cafeteria or just wandering around the prison. Tallow really didn’t want to go into the latter - they got enough jeers and threats on their life by the inmates when they HAD to go down there - so they kept walking towards the cafeteria. They watched as the world went by around them, people on their way to meetings or therapy appointments or their next mission. Even a few RyftCo types milling about, on loan for some more specialised services. No sign of that idiot Traveller or his walking medi-kit, thankfully. But as they weaved in and out of tables full of people eating their lunches, no Surgeon either.
Leaving, Tallow leaned against the wall just outside, fashioned as it was with a grey plastic bumper of sorts. Gripping the bridge of their nose, Tallow couldn’t help but let out a brazen sigh. Perhaps such was for the best, however, as it managed to catch the attention of a certain someone nearby. Tallow jumped a little as a cold fake finger prodded their shoulder.
Oh, right. Asma Patton. One of FLINTLOCK’s Physical Training Coaches, and one of their newer members at that. She was a pale woman, with near-white skin blotched with Vitiligo. Green hair done up in a sensible ponytail, purple sports bra and sweat pants. She almost looked like a clown, Tallow thought, were it not for her prosthetics. Two, specifically - her right arm was prosthetic from the elbow down, while her left leg was one of those thin running blades starting at the knee.
“Ah, Captain Tallow!” Asma said in her chirpy tone of voice, doing a cheery mock salute. She stopped as she noticed Tallow’s morose expression, and hers dropped a little as well, “Is something the matter?”
Tallow flashed a somewhat grateful smirk as they got back onto their feet properly, “Hmm. Perfect timing. I don’t suppose you’ve seen our glorious leader running around, have you? Preferably one that ISN’T lashed up in drag at the moment?”
“Surgeon?” Asma asked, to which Tallow gave a quick but notably exasperated nod. Asma shrugged, “I’ve been busy today, can’t really say I’ve noticed much. I THINK I saw him able towards his secret room, though. Might wanna start there?”
Well, it was better than nothing. Tallow thanked Asma for her time and set off clomping down the corridor, the bemused sports girl looking back quickly before walking off towards her next session.
===
Surgeon’s secret room. Anyone who passed it would never think twice, unless Surgeon himself was seen shuffling into it. It was in a part of the complex that was remote even for the building’s winding pathways and corridors, tucked away in a corner far from Surgeon’s usual office. Even the door was unassuming, with a “WC” poorly attached to the front, and with a “OUT OF ORDER” sign on it. If it wasn’t for the special, blue-metal plated card scanner, people would just assume it was just a broken toilet - in fact, some people had tried to report it was one over the years.
It was not, of course. It was home to The Surgeon’s most prized possession. The one thing he could never let the others see. And only a small selection of people could even enter this special room. Even Tallow was normally unable to enter without permission. But that didn’t mean that Tallow didn’t have one of the few keycards to get in. They just knew better to intrude on Surgeon’s most private quarters. But today was different. Surgeon was nowhere to be found, and Tallow would rather not have the main founder of their organisation MIA during such trying times.
And so, with a quick swipe of the blue-framed keycard and a special beep, Tallow opened the door and let themselves in. The room was...disappointingly small, all considered. Far less impressive than all the rigmarole with the door would let one believe. But that didn’t matter, for the room only had to contain one thing - a cylinder. Tall, grey, nearly featureless were it not for the door set into its side. Unassuming, but important.
The Surgeon’s most prized thing he owned. His old ship. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. The TARDIS. Well, not THE TARDIS. More like just A TARDIS. But a TARDIS all the same, stuck in its default form due to...well a multitude of reasons, but a simple lack of parts being one of them. Tallow shook these ambling thoughts from their head and reached out a hand to touch the bare metal of the ship - even through their thick leather gloves, the unnatural metal was near-freezing to the touch.
Sighing in some form of anticipation, Tallow raised their hand and knocked hard on the TARDIS door. It rang out like they had knocked on a bell, with a hollow ringing filling the tiny room. There was sheer silence, an unnerving pause in the world, before finally, there was a voice;
“...Come in.”
Yep, that was Surgeon. Tallow twisted the handle and slowly opened the door. They knew what would await them, within near-endless complex beyond it, but it still gave them a strange sense of awe every time. The main console room was, simply put, MASSIVE. The decor was quite rustic, with copper-orange fixtures and fixings, black walls and brown floors with fancy chairs installed into the railings. And in the middle, a giant console, also copper in colour, with all sorts of pipes and switches and levers and widgets jutting out of every odd angle that they could. And all of this was capped off by the giant glass column rising out of the console and stretching all the way to whatever really counted as a “Roof” in this place.
The lights were dimmed within the cockpit, with only the soft purple light of the slowly rising and falling column to illuminate the sole occupant of the room. Sitting on the grated floor, back to the console and holding his legs close to his chest, was Surgeon. He was looking at an ancient photo clenched in his off-hand, and a miserable frown was splayed across his face.
Tallow looked confused at all this. Surgeon was known for his stiff upper lip for most of the time. It was a rarity to see him this upset, never mind for more than a few seconds before he would snap back to reality. This...was this even the same Surgeon they had known, Tallow thought to themselves? With an errant shuffle, they stepped further into the TARDIS, the glow of the console now settling on their uniform.
“Surgeon?” Tallow asked after a short moment, “...S-Sir? Are you okay?”
“I’m sitting...” Surgeon said slowly and deliberately, not even looking up from the photo, “On the floor of my ship...in the dark,” he finally twisted his head up to look at Tallow, “Do I LOOK okay, Captain?”
“S-Sir...” Tallow stammered again, quickly if not sloppily saluting their superior, “I apologise for intruding, I was just trying to find you. I have a complaint to file about Wander’s behaviour and his usage of this idiotic persona of his on company time-”
“I don’t care right now...” such a weak whisper was all that escaped Surgeon’s throat.
“Sir, I must prot-”
“I SAID I DON’T FUCKING CARE RIGHT NOW!” Surgeon suddenly leapt to life and roared like someone had shoved a taser into his back, arching up and screaming with the sort of raw emotion he dared not show otherwise. Tallow was so shocked that they leapt backwards themselves, almost tripping and falling out of the TARDIS. Surgeon, his energy seemingly spent, bowed his head again and curled up inwards, “Leave me be, Tallow. I’ll be fine in a moment.”
“You’re not okay, sir,” Tallow sighed too, “I can tell. I...I simply cannot leave you in such times of emotional distress. I would like to help.”
“If you can wave away nearly a full century of guilt and shame...” Surgeon sighed, “Be my guest, I suppose.”
“Well if nothing else, I want to listen,” Tallow inched further into the TARDIS, closing the door behind them, “I’m not really a psychiatrist...but, Ms Dawkins did say I need to soften my heart a little, myself.”
Slowly, Tallow got closer to Surgeon, taking a seat on the console chairs and crossing one leg over the other. They took the time to look him over, and he looked like he was in a bit of a state. He looked like he hadn’t slept for at least two days, covered in dust and oil from working on things within the TARDIS. His jacket was dirty, his shirt was partially undone and his eyes were bloodshot. Tallow tried to get a small look at the photograph he held in his hands, but they couldn’t get a good enough look to make anything out.
“So...” Surgeon sighed, looking up at Tallow, “What do you want to know?”
“Well, I would like to know why you’re sulking on the floor with tears in your eyes and a photo in your hands.”
“Nice to know your empathy is as strong as ever, Tal,” Surgeon grimaced, before finally getting to his feet. He was shaky, but he got there eventually, grabbing the console to hoist himself up. He pressed a few buttons, before turning one of the screens around to face him and Tallow, “Tell me, do you know what today is?”
“It’s the D’Aether, sir,” Tallow said, “Today could be everything, and nothing.”
“Exactly,” Surgeon said, twisting himself around to face Tallow directly, “It is all of time and none of it. Always, and never. Which means, it is the Xty Xth anniversary of...my greatest failure, I suppose. And the greatest failure of every Time Lord that ever existed. The one thing we’ll all burn for, eventually.”
“Forgive me, sir, I...” Tallow said slowly, “Don’t, quite follow.”
The Surgeon simply shook his head, pressing another button on his console and looking at the screen. As it blared to life, he could only look on, grimacing with shame, and speak in but a harsh whisper;
“The Time War.”
The image on the monitor honed into view. For a split second, it looked like nothing. And then, like some perverse magic, it spilled from the screen and filled the spacious room. Tallow felt a shock to their senses that almost made them sick to their stomach. They could feel it, in all its horror, even if it couldn’t be seen by the human eye. Screams, explosions, screams of mercy and hatred rang out in their ears as the war raged on. Everywhere and nowhere, all at once and never at all. All around them was whatever visuals could be perceived; a planet, charred black and scarred with wisps of red and orange, under attack from a multitude of flying saucers striking the planet all at once. And all at once, as the nearly-hollowed Tallow could barely pinpoint, a single word repeated over and over;
“EX-TER-MINATE!”
“Oh my God...”
“The biggest conflict in all of reality,” The Surgeon said, standing almost calmly in the middle of this sensory maelstrom, “The war that took place against all of space, across all of time. Ending only when both sides were but atoms in the Time Stream. Us, the Time Lords. And...them.”
The senses died down a little, and Tallow could hear themselves think again. Maybe it was just their brain starting to filter it all out to avoid a particularly ironic Turning, maybe not. Still, Tallow managed to look around them, towards the space ships they swore they knew from somewhere, “Daleks, sir?”
Surgeon’s face twitched in shock, “...How do you know?”
“That idiot Traveller mumbled about them in his sleep once. Said he killed too many for you to count one time, and he laughed at that...” Tallow grimaced as the first signs of a major headache started to emerge, but they kept at it regardless, “So, what’s wrong? Are, you one of the few survivors of this conflict? A veteran, I guess?”
Surgeon gave some thoroughly mirthless laughter before his expression fell, “I WISH.”
He said almost nothing more, before sighing and taking the photo he had in his hands and giving it to Tallow. The photo was faded and horribly scratched, but they could just about make out the details. It was a photo in some really fancy scholarly setting somewhere, with three people in it and posing. Only one was left untouched, off to the side and only raising a meek hand in greeting - likely Surgeon in one of his previous incarnations - with the two being more lively but with their faces scratched out.
“Who are they?” Tallow asked, pointing to the two redacted fellows on the photo.
“They were my friends,” Surgeon sighed, “Let’s just call them...D and M. Maybe you know them by other names. The rest of humanity certainly does, I suppose. Life was so simple, then. Even after having to look through that damned Schism. L-Long story. I was always the socially awkward guy, you know. Well, sometimes girl. Regenerations, and all. Bit of a crap-shoot. But those two? They just saw me milling around, no friends and all. Asked if I wanted to be part of their little group. I...refused, at first. But they grew on me, and I did join in the end.”
“I see,” Tallow said, crossing one of their legs but continuing to listen, “So, how were they?”
“Oh, we were pretty close friends,” Surgeon said wistfully, “It was always D that was the leader, of sorts. Always so full of energy and curiosity. Never one for authority, or to sit still. M was more of the pragmatic kind. Plotting. Some might even say evil. But he kept it under wraps during academy time. For...the most part.”
“Sounds like you had a good time, then,” Tallow hummed, looking over the photo for one final time before handing it back to Surgeon, “So, I must ask. What, happened exactly?”
“Well what do you think?” Surgeon asked near-incredulously, “The Time War. Everyone who was able to be drafted into it was. Or, they tried to. D and M took off in their own TARDIS’, rampaged across time and space in a never-ending battle. Or, so I’ve been told. I managed to keep away from the frontlines. But hearing the news as it came in, back and forth...it was a nightmare. Near-literally in some cases.”
“Is this what this is about, then? Guilt?” Tallow asked, to which Surgeon gave a sullen nod. Tallow’s own face fell as they thought about it all - they tried to imagine what it would have been like to live in that scenario. Living in fear of what the news would say next. How close those genocidal kettles were to their home. Tallow turned back to Surgeon, “I...understand, sir. But, surely there are some positives to focus on. Surely, you managed to do some good in the war! It’s what your kind does, right? You right wrongs and save people! That’s what he does, right?” Tallow almost pleaded their case, but they could see it in Surgeon’s face that they were wrong. Fresh tears were lining his eyes, his posture hunched and limp. Almost defeated. Tallow’s own face fell, “Oh no...”
Surgeon took a look at Tallow shamefully, then pressed some more buttons on his console. Once again, the screen exploded into vivid sights and sounds, his broken voice ringing alongside it all...
===
Arcadia. The second city of Galifrey. And for the longest time during this accursed war, my home. I watched as the war raged across the worlds. We saw what it would do, what they unleashed on us. The Nightmare Child was one of the worst. And that was the closest one to us. The only thing that gave us hope was...him. D. Or, at the people called him, The Doctor.
We were privy to his tales and travels as he gallivanted around the worlds. We heard of him fighting the enemies of the Time Lords everywhere he went. Cybermen, Daleks, Sontarens. Even managed to rewrite reality a couple times. Not that we felt it. We sort of just...don’t. But it wasn’t enough. For all his skill, he was one man in a vast universe. We knew the war would come to Galifrey, soon. If only we knew how little time we had.
They didn’t even give us the courtesy of a threat. We didn’t have time to prepare. I awoke from my house to a fiery blaze. Screams, flames, cries of extermination! They were here. The Daleks were on Galifrey. Arcadia was falling.
“But, surely the Doctor helped there too, right? If he was fighting so hard for so long.”
Well, not FIGHTING fighting. He was never one for violence like that. Never carried a gun, never liked to use weapons. He was more about solving problems. The peaceful solution...for the most part. But, I thought that too! The Doctor had saved countless lives across the world, from countless species! I knew my friend would come back and save us! Maybe I could join back up with him, do something with my life!
“...What happened, Surgeon?”
He did. I could hear his TARDIS wheeze its way into the world. He always left the handbrake on, the pillock. But after a while, it inspired hope across the cosmos. So I thought, he was back! He’d come to save us. So I ran over to the main gardens of the city. And...there he was. Oh, there the heck he was. Dressed head to toe in bandoleers and ammo and guns and knifes. Tearing Daleks apart around him, fighting like someone who had killed his entire life. They called him...the War Doctor.
Not a Warmonger as you understand them. Perhaps, in some ways, he preceded them. A hero of the people...fallen to the point of fighting like a common soldier. And it was then I realised. The Time War was a hopeless, awful thing. So big, so destructive, so HORRIBLE in every single facet of its very being...that even the most badass pacifist I knew was forced to pick up a gun and let it roar. The Time War had made a mockery of the Time Lords, and a martyr for the Daleks. There was nothing for us in this universe any more. Nothing but utter, total destruction.
I ran. I turned around and ran away. I could’ve still helped. I could have talked sense into him. Instead, I ran for the closest TARDIS I could find. A museum piece, of all things. Heh...damn thing barely worked, but I managed it. And I just kept running. Out of the universe entirely - the only way to make sure the War would never follow me. And next thing you know, I’m crash-landing in this other timeline...and I wake up as a completely different person, as we Time Lords are wont to do.
...How many people did I leave to die on that planet? How many children? How many I still could have saved if I just had the spine to stick around?
Behold, Tallow. The Time Lord unworthy of the title. The Coward of Galifrey...
===
The overwhelming screams and crackling of fires finally faded. Tallow fell to their knees and hands, head a swirling mass of nausea. It felt like they were going to be sick. It took longer than was really needed for the sickness to subside, Tallow grabbing the ship’s console just to steady themselves. They looked up at Surgeon with a look of horror on their face, “Good GOD, Surgeon...no wonder you ran away.”
“Hmm,” Surgeon looked almost puzzled, even if his morose expression barely changed, “I thought you’d run me over the coals for not standing my ground. You, who was always one to stand up to the bullies in the playground.”
“Yeah but the bullies weren’t usually an army of genocidal kettles, Jesus!” Tallow yelled in shock as they worked out the last of the illness. Eventually, they were able to stand up again, barely. They looked Surgeon in the eye, “Sir, I’m...so sorry. I didn’t know that you...I just thought-”
“It’s...fine,” Surgeon sighed, returning to sit by the console on the floor, hands hugging his knees, “Well, now you know, I suppose. Feel free to do with that information as you wished. Just...don’t tell everyone. You know a lot of people look up to me and...”
He trailed off, looking down to the side out of shame. It didn’t last long, however. A small, harmless kick met his ankle, and he looked back around to see a gloved hand, stretched out as an invitation. He looked up to see Tallow, face melded into one of comfort.
“You don’t need to tackle this alone, sir. Come on, let’s get a drink.”
===
There was an errant creak as the door to Medi-Room #54 opened, the slightly woozy cheers of the occupants escaping from it as Cassidy stumbled out. Her clothing was dishevelled and hastily put back on, her hair all frizzy and her makeup streaked. Clearly, they had all had a good time. Cassidy cackled, “See you later, boys~” and closing the door behind her. She sighed, arching forward and propping herself up with hands on thighs, “Good lord, they really went nuts for that...” she sighed, “I think I’m all done for now...”
“I sure hope so, Sir.”
Cassidy’s eyes went wide as she looked over to the source of the voice, “Ah, shit.”
Sure enough, it was Tallow and Surgeon, walking slowly down the almost empty corridor towards her. Both held drinks in their hands - Tallow had a bottle of water, Surgeon a cup of tea - and Cassidy panicked at the sight of them. She ripped her wig off, revealing Wander’s natural brown locks underneath, turning off and removing the voice changer. They were about halfway through scrubbing off the makeup before the two finally reached them.
Tallow’s face could only be described as “smug to the extreme”, looking over the quickly de-Cassidying Wander, “Take your time. ‘Sir’.”
“Surgeon, Tallow!” Wander said quickly, having to clear his throat and consciously switch voice tones, “I uh...this...i-it’s not what it looks like.”
Surgeon looked over Wander, then turned over to Tallow, “...You came to get me just to complain about this, huh?”
Tallow looked vaguely sly, “Maybe.”
Surgeon chuckled, but a weary sigh could be heard somewhere within it. He turned to Wander and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Wander, it’s fine. Don’t mind Tallow, just, uh...go and get changed, yeah?”
“I-I should, yeah...” Wander stammered, face blushing beet red, “One moment, please.”
Wander turned tail and fast-walked down the corridor towards the nearby toilets. Tallow chuckled at the spectacle of it all, “Serves him right.”
Surgeon motioned Tallow to sit down on the seats outside the door to the medical bay, and they did. Surgeon took a nice long sip of his tea, “Mmm, that’s better. Thanks Tallow. Maybe I DID just need someone to listen and some tea to help wash it down.”
“Just, glad I could help,” Tallow said, grinning slightly, “And if it helps keep Wander in line, even better.”
“Now, that’s something I never got,” Surgeon had to say, turning to Tallow with a look of utmost seriousness on his face, “WHY don’t you like Cassidy? And, Marissa, for that matter? Aren’t you in the same sort of group as them?”
“You of all people should probably know it’s not that simple, sir...” Tallow grumbled, taking a quick sip of their own water, “But I guess, with the utmost respect...it just feels like a mockery. Of what I and others who do all that stand for.”
“Explain?”
Tallow nodded at Surgeon’s own question, looking over to them, “It’s...complicated? I never really questioned who I’d be. I mean, I was assigned female at birth but, it never really bothered me. I guess...” Tallow stopped in their tracks. A look of uncertainty crept across their face, “I...guess it just felt like it was the right call to make. Growing up I heard all this hateful stuff from the guys at the top. Passing laws saying you’re not who you wanted to be, as a sort of first step to dismissing them as human outright. Or, that’s what people said. I just felt like, I could be the person they could look up to. The one to help them fight back against that oppression. So when I see those two throw on wigs and fake tits, it...feels like they’re mocking all that stuff. Stuck in the past, and all.”
“Well, excuse the echo but...” Surgeon said quietly, “It’s not really that simple, is it? I think there’s so much more to them than you’re really willing to see. Marissa is...an escape. I mean, how’d you feel if you were the living embodiment of the very thing we’re currently fighting? Surely a few moments away from that is worth it, even with the...admittedly unorthodox manner he chose to do it in. Isn’t that reasonable?”
“I...suppose. Maybe we’ve both got some things to deal with, huh. Anyway, it’s not really about me, is it?” Tallow said, brushing off the rest, “What about you? What about...Galifrey?”
“I...by Rassilon, I don’t know,” Surgeon sighed, looking into his half-empty cup, “What CAN I do? How do I help myself and the others I never could? I guess, that’s why I helped found FLINTLOCK in the first place, you know?”
“I GUESS...” Tallow grumbled, “But it won’t fully fill that hole, will it? I understand that much. Surely, there’s another way. I mean, does your TARDIS still work as it should?”
“As a time machine?” Surgeon asked in response, “...Eh, sometimes? It’s in dire need of proper repairs, which I figured I’d try do while moping around in there. But even in this multiverse landfill, I just can’t find the parts. I guess even the Time Lords never came out this far. So I’m just sort of...stuck here. Wondering what I could have done differently...”
“Well, isn’t that what you founded FLINTLOCK for, sir?” Tallow asked, “I asked Wander how all this started and that’s what he told me. You approached him his own ruined world and told him everything that happened with this Event stuff. About how you had both failed your worlds, but you could still pool resources and protect everyone else from falling to the same thing. Right?”
“Well, that’s ONE way of putting it,” came a distinctly male voice from down the corridor. Wander, dressed in his standard blue long-coat and black clothing, was approaching the two at speed. He slowed to a stop before the two and leaned against the wall, “There was a distinct amount of reminding me that my world was dead and it was my fault before I even had so much as a morning coffee.”
“...Okay well I was still reeling a little from re-knowing everything we probably weren’t supposed to, to be fair.”
“I know, I know,” Wander sighed, “Probably had to be this way, really. It was that or just perish on a forgotten world. Tallow’s right, Surgeon. That IS what we founded all this for, specifics aside.”
“Exactly,” Tallow said, “So I guess we just...keep doing as we’re doing. We can’t protect everyone, I know we can’t. And it hurts when we lose people we would have moved the worlds themselves to save. But...all we can do is honour the fallen and fight in their name. I’m sure it’s what your people would have wanted.”
Wander, knowing of the Timeless Child, couldn’t help but raise a finger, “Well...”
Tallow pointed towards Wander like a knife, “Don’t fucking spoil it.”
“Alright, alright,” Wander shrugged, “Well, I hope you’re feeling a little better, Surgeon. You DID seem a little morose, recently. But, I won’t intrude.”
“...I do, honestly,” Surgeon couldn’t help but crack a smile, “Thanks, guys.”
“Anytime, sir,” Tallow smiled. It could almost be called a warm smile, if the mere idea of doing so wouldn’t cause Tallow such revulsion. Nevertheless, they stood up and began to walk down the corridor, “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to my duties. I’m sure that idiot Traveller is up to something again...”
“Yeah, I better go see my duties off, too,” Wander tipped a hat he didn’t have, before clicking on his heels and walking briskly down the corridor, “Later, Surgeon!”
“Bye guys,” Surgeon waved the two off, and looked over his...friends, as they left. Tallow, clomping stoically and with an air of grace to their movement. And Wander, moving whatever way was clearly best comfortable for him. Surgeon was not aware of what he - as Cassidy - had just been up to. And it was probably wise to keep it that way. Finishing his drink, he stood up and walked calmly down the corridor to dispose of the cup, and truly start his day.
---
And there he goes, part of you thinks. A stranger to this world, thinking himself the last Time Lord alive. In this world, maybe. And heck, maybe in your own, as well. It was hard to tell if the Time Lords were back or if it was - as some of your younger companions liked to say - “joever”. Whatever THAT meant. But you couldn’t help but smirk a little as you watched everything in this corridor unfold. Surgeon would make a great Time Lord, you knew it. Better than most of them the last time you saw them, anyhow.
Surgeon had the power to change this world for the better, with a smile on his face and a Sonic Screwdriver in his pocket. As you walked into the shadows, you couldn’t help but think of a good descriptor for the guy. A word you used to use a lot, actually. Back when you thought YOU were the last Time Lord. What was that word, again?
Ah, yes.
Fantastic.