Title: Antidote
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Brendan Block
Fandom: Doctor Who/Secret Smile
Rating: R
Table: slash_me_twice
Prompt: 77, Poison
Warning: past non-con.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Brendan Block, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

Brendan sighed, scowling as he looked out of the Tardis' door. He and the Doctor were on a beautiful planet, a place that had looked as though it was made for lovers, but he hadn't been able to enjoy it. His soul was still too troubled, his mind too occupied.

He was letting what the Master had done to him poison his life -- and his relationship with the Doctor, Brendan thought, feeling the absurd urge to cry. And there was nothing he could do about it; that poison was creeping slowly, insidiously through his being.

He wanted to turn back to the ship and pound at the door, rip something apart, cause some sort of terrible destruction to ease his feelings. But he knew that he had to hold himself back from doing anything of that sort; that would make him as bad as the Master.

There was no outlet for his anger and frustration -- at least not here on the Tardis. And there didn't seem to be one on this planet, either; this was a peaceful place, and he knew that he had no right to stir up any trouble and disturb that quiet tranquility.

The Doctor had gone out, giving Brendan stern orders to stay here on the Tardis. He'd said that he felt there was something wrong with the usual serenity of the place; it apparently didn't give him the same feeling that it always had before, and he was worried.

Brendan wanted to go in search of his lover; the Doctor had been gone for what seemed like a very long time, and now he was getting worried about the Time Lord. But he had no idea where the Doctor had gone; getting lost wouldn't do either of them any good.

No, it was best for him to remain here and wait for the Doctor, as he'd been told to do. But the Time Lord had said that he wouldn't be gone for too long, and it had been hours. What could be keeping him? Had he gotten into trouble? Been taken captive somewhere?

Brendan's throat tightened as he thought of all the things that could happen; it was very possible that some horrible thing could happen to the Doctor, and he would be stranded here, to be victimized by the inhabitants of this strange planet that he knew nothing about ....

He was being foolish, Brendan berated himself. The Doctor was fine, and he wasn't going to be abandoned here on this planet. The Time Lord would come back to the ship in his own good time, and the two of them would go off somewhere else, to another place that seemed interesting.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling in the leaves of one of the large flowering bushes that was near the ship; they had landed in the midst of a shady grove of planets, which the Doctor said would be camouflage for the Tardis. It had seemed like a good idea.

But perhaps it hadn't been. It might be more dangerous than they had thought for them to be surrounded by these tall bushes that were larger than the two of them; it would be so easy for any enemy to sneak up on them completely unexpectedly and --

Brendan's uneasy thoughts were shattered by the appearance of the Doctor; the Time Lord staggered out of the bushes and headed for the Tardis, one hand clutching at his throat. His dark eyes were as large as saucers; he looked as though he was frightened out of his wits.

"Doctor!" Brendan was out of the ship in a flash, sliding an arm around the Doctor's waist as the other man stumbled and nearly fell to his knees. "What's happened? Are you all right?" Stupid question, he told himself wryly. The Doctor was obviously not all right.

The Time Lord shook his head, drawing a gasping breath. "Inside .... the ship .... infirmary ...." he managed to gasp out, before he took another breath, this one shallower than the last. Brendan couldn't help but feel alarmed at the labored way he was breathing.

"What happened?" he asked again, wishing that the Time Lord could give him some indication of what had been done to him. It was obvious that he was having difficulty breathing, but Brendan couldn't see any blood anywhere on him; he hadn't been shot or stabbed.

"Poison .... throat closing .... can't .... breathe ....." the Doctor choked out as Brendan helped him up the few steps that led to the control room. He held the Doctor as they stumbled down the corridor to the infirmary, wishing that he knew what to do in a situation like this.

But he understood what the Doctor was trying to get across to him clearly enough. If he could find the antidote to whatever had poisoned his lover, he had to get it to him quickly. The Doctor was gasping for breath, his lips already taking on a blue tinge.

"Where is it? Where is it?" Brendan cried, flinging open the first few cabinet doors that he could get to. He had no idea what the antidote could be, and in the Doctor's present condition, the other man obviously wasn't able to tell him anything about it to guide him.

The Doctor clutched at his arm, levering himself to the next row of cabinets and reaching for one. Brendan opened it, letting the Time Lord reach into it and grasp a small bottle of purple liquid. The other man's hand shook so badly that Brendan was afraid he would drop the bottle.

And if it broke, what then? The Doctor would die in front of his eyes; he as already choking, unable to take a breath, and Brendan had no idea if he would regenerate in this kind of condition. He was almost certain that this would be a final death if it was allowed to happen.

He steadied the Doctor's hand, helping him uncork the bottle and hold it to his lips. The Time Lord gulped, most of the liquid disappearing in one swallow. The rest was gone in a second gulp; Brendan could now only wait and hope that the antidote did its work properly.

This hadn't been a slow poison, like the one that was infecting him, he thought irrationally. This one had acted quickly and fiercely -- and if he lost the Doctor because of it, the poison in his own veins that the Master had implanted within him would only spread and grow more virulent.

The poison that had overtaken the Doctor had acted so quickly that the Time Lord might not have made it back to the ship and safety -- but he had, and Brendan knew that by the way the other man was relaxing in his arms, color returning slowly to his cheeks.

"Are you all right?" he asked again, his tone less frantic this time. It was fairly obvious that the Doctor was becoming his normal self again; his dark eyes had lost that frightened look, and he was starting to breathe normally. The Time Lord nodded, sighing and taking a deep breath before he spoke.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said, leaning against Brendan and sliding his arms around his lover's waist. "I knew that I shouldn't have drunk what I was offered -- this planet has a history of things like poisoning -- but I thought that I knew the person who gave it to me. I thought I was safe."

"It just goes to show that you can never really trust anyone," Brendan murmured, wondering at the truth of those words the moment he uttered them. He trusted the Doctor completely, didn't he? And the Doctor could trust him. If they couldn't trust each other, then they were in trouble.

"You shouldn't think like that, Brendan," the Doctor told him, lifting his head to gaze into Brendan's eyes. "That's the kind of poison that the Master has infected you with. The poison of mistrust. You can't go through life feeling you shouldn't trust anyone."

Brendan nodded slowly, knowing that the Doctor was right -- and startled that the Time Lord's thoughts had been moving along the same path as his own. Those words mirrored what was in his own mind almost exactly -- and it was a little scary to think that the Doctor could reach into his thoughts.

But why should it be scary? he asked himself. He did trust the Doctor. He trusted this man with his heart and soul, and with his life. There was nothing he wouldn't do for the Doctor -- and nothing that he would hold back from the man he loved.

The slow poison that was a part of him now because of the Master's attack had to be drawn out slowly, by degrees, until it was not longer a part of the person he was. That wouldn't be easy to do; he wished that there was an antidote to that, just as there had been for the Doctor.

The only antidote that he had was his own determination not to let himself be drawn into the Master's trap; fortunately, he had the Doctor with him to help him along that path. It wouldn't be easy, but together, they could drain that poison away.

"I trust you, Doctor," he whispered, his gaze not wavering from the other man's. He leaned closer to the Time Lord, breathlessly waiting for the moment when their lips would meet. He could already feel the poison receding with the Doctor's touch, his kiss.

That poison would recede to a place where he could either manage it, or where he could manage to eradicate it completely. He had no choice but to do so; he couldn't let the Master win, couldn't let that monster poison him from the inside out.

Tightening his arms around the Doctor's waist, he let the other man lean against him, supporting him for a few moments before he turned to help the Time Lord make his way to their bedroom. He needed to lie down after his ordeal, and Brendan didn't intend to leave his side.

***