Past Lives || Dottore

26

Y/n quickly caught up to Dottore. Her mood didn't go unnoticed by the doctor. He was just getting started on set everything up for the first test subject when she walked into the room with an angry look on her face. He looked up, curious.

"My, my, what happened in the few minutes I was gone?"

She looked at him angrily. "You and your scary ass lab, that's what."

"Is it really that scary?" He placed his scalpel on the side table, lining it up perfectly. He didn't quite know why he liked it to be straight, it wasn't like it was going to stay like that once the experiment really got going.

"Yes! And that fucking clone that scared the shit out of me!"

Dottore paused. "Which clone?"

Y/n's anger disappeared, quickly being replaced with fear and worry. "Ah-" She looked away, suddenly scared to look at his mask.

"Y/n." He moved in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. It forced her to look at him. "Which. Clone."

Her words caught in her throat. She felt bad for the clone. She felt bad for telling Dottore that one of his clones just happened to scare her. "S-sir-"

"Dottore."

"R-right. Dottore, don't worry about it." She smiled sheepishly. "Please." She felt his grip on her shoulders tighten. Y/n was pretty sure she felt a crack, but considering there was no sharp pain that followed, she was fine. At least, for the time being.

"I punched him right in the jaw, okay? He apologized; everything is fine!"

"Everything is not fine. Not until you tell me which fucking clone scared you."

This was getting out of hand. Dottore himself was being to scare her.

"D-dottore, you're hurting me-" She was cut off.

"TELL ME, Y/N!"

"DOTTORE!"

He stopped. Maybe her shouting at him got through his thick skull. She felt his hands loosen their grip on her shoulders, another crack went through her body. Y/n felt the pain with this one, but she knew she couldn't let her hurt show. He needed to listen to her.

He stepped back, finally realizing what he'd done. "Ah."

She spoke. "You're scaring me." Her hand went up to hold her shoulder, flinching as her fingers brushed against the bruised surface. She felt his eyes on her, she knew he was watching her be in pain.

She was just unsure if he liked it or not. These days have been getting more and more confusing when it came to Dottore and his emotions. He was constantly switching them on a whim; acting all sweet with her one moment then turn around and mutter something about mass genocide.

He turned away from her. She noticed his lips were pressed together, making a thin line. Was he trying to control his anger? His regret? Y/n watched as he left the large room, his footsteps echoing through the hall. She realized he was going to find the clone himself.

"Shit." This wasn't the clone's fault; it was hers.

It was only fair that she would be the one fix this damn problem.

She quickly followed after the doctor, her walking footsteps turning into sprinting as she found out just how fast this man could walk. She felt her foot begin to slip on a pool of blood as she ran past, somehow regaining her footing as she continued to run. Y/n began to realize just how large this place actually was; it didn't seem possible from normal human means.

This place was like a maze, but she found Dottore. He was approaching the poor clone that scared her. A tinge of worry for this clone pierced her heart. She needed to make it over there in time. She didn't want this clone to be hurt because of her.

It would be bad on her conscience.

She watched as Dottore grabbed the clone by the throat, producing a pocketknife from nowhere. Oh no. She thought. I'm not going to make it in time.

He raised the knife, posed to strike at the temple. The clone looked fearful, pleading. He was begging.

Y/n slid between Dottore and the clone, forcing Prime to release his grip on the clone's throat. He landed with a thud on the blood-stained ground, coughing and holding his throat, like he couldn't believe that Prime let go. Dottore froze, his grip tightening on the handle of the knife.

"Y/n."

"Dottore."

She stared up at him, protecting the clone with her own body. Her face was stern, her body showing no signs of moving out of his way.

"Killing your own clone over a matter as simple as this is foolish." She spoke. "It is not his fault, Dottore, it's mine, okay? I should've kept my emotions in check, alright?"

His eyes narrowed from behind the mask.

"If anything, hurt me, not this clone."

Dottore lowered his knife, returning it to whatever place he got it from. Huffing, he turned on his heel and left. Y/n waited a few more moments after he left her eyesight before relaxing. The clone behind her was still coughing, but he sounded better than when he was first released. She turned around, crouching to meet his eye level.

"I apologize. For yelling at you earlier." He watched her with skeptical eyes. "Are you alright?"

The clone nodded. It looked like he didn't want to say anything. That was fine. Considering everything that just happened, she wasn't sure if she would talk either if she was in his situation. She smiled.

"That's good." She sighed. "Could you tell me your clone number?"

"N-number 139."

"Wow. 139?" Y/n was impressed. "Are you the only one in the one hundreds?"

He nodded again. "Everyone else was a failed experiment."

She frowned. "That's too bad." #139 chuckled nervously.

"I suppose." He whispered. He was uncomfortable. She knew this. "I need to get back to work..." He mumbled.

"#139."

He looked at her, his dull red eyes -which were completely different from Dottore's vibrant ones- looked at her in fear. Was he worried that something was still going to happen to him?

"I'll make sure you're okay. It's not your fault you scared me; this lab was spooky, and you just so happened to be the cherry on the top." Y/n shrugged. She stood up, trying to wipe off the dried blood on her knees. She offered her hand to the clone, who took it with some hesitation.

His hands weren't calloused, which told her he wasn't the weapons type. He wasn't the type to fight somebody. She felt bad.

"I don't want to call you by a number, that feels like I'm calling you an object. Would you be okay if I gave you a name?" She asked, releasing his hand. #139's hand dropped to his side. She watched his reaction, pleased when he nodded his head.

"I guess." He whispered.

"That's great." She smiled at him. "Now, what name should I give you?"

He stayed silent, his eyes watching the area where Dottore left. To her, it seemed like he was still waiting for Prime to appear from around the corner and finish what he started.

"Ah, I know what to call you."

"Huh?"

"How about, Róbkij?"

The clone was surprised. Slowly, his lips curved into a shy smile.

"Róbkij?" He chuckled. "Thank you."