Title: Change For the Better
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Brendan Block
Fandom: Doctor Who/Secret Smile
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, fanfic50
Prompt: 24, Undecided
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 as he rested his elbows on the console of the Tardis, gazing down at the controls in front of him. He didn't know much about them, of course, but he knew enough to be able to get the ship out of a bad situation if he ever had to.

Not that he would ever leave the Doctor behind, Brendan thought to himself. Even if he had to drag the Time Lord back onto the ship from some ferocious battle and get the Tardis out of here himself, he would do it. He wouldn't abandon the man he loved.

What would happen if he had to defend the Doctor in some kind of fight? Would he lose his nerve and back away after what the Master had done to him, or would he forget that and jump into the fray, seeing red when anyone dared to touch the Doctor?

There was no way of knowing just what he would do until he was faced with making that decision, Brendan told himself with a sigh. He wanted to believe that he would come to the Doctor's aid above all, but there was a part of him that wondered if he could.

Would he be able to come to the Time Lord's rescue if he needed to? He'd tried before, and that attempt had failed miserably. He hadn't been able to save the Doctor from the Master's malice, any more than he had been able to save himself.

How long would he be undecided about what he would do, if the situation arose where he had to make that kind of a decision? Would he be able to do what needed to be done quickly, or would he freeze in place, unable to make a move in any direction?

He hoped that he would be able to do whatever was needed, but there was no way to know how he would react to any given situation until it was upon him. He would simply have to wait and find out -- and waiting for anything had never come easily to him.

What would the Doctor have to say about his thoughts? Brendan couldn't help but wonder if the question of what he would do in a dire situation was something that he should bring up with the Time Lord, just to know what the Doctor's thoughts were.

No, he already knew what his lover would say. The Doctor would hold steadfastly to his belief that the man he loved and trusted with his life would come through when he was needed; Brendan might have his doubts, but the Doctor never would.

The Doctor's faith in him was a beautiful thing; there were times when Brendan felt as though that faith was the only thing that kept him going. He might be able to let himself down, but he could never do that to the Doctor. He had to be there for the man he loved.

The Time Lord meant everything to him; his lover had saved him from a life on Earth that might have easily spiraled out of control, making him become someone he didn't want to be. He had the feeling that he had narrowly managed to step away from a dangerous precipice.

The Doctor had pulled him back from that edge; he had been looking down into a chasm that he very well might have willingly let himself fall into if he had stayed on Earth. That Miranda bitch might have driven him to do things he would regret for the rest of his life.

Instead, he had made the decision to come out here into the stars with the Doctor, and there had never been one moment's regret. He hadn't been undecided about that for long; only a split second, and then he had known what he wanted to do.

Indecision had never been something that often plagued him. He usually made up his mind about what he wanted to do -- and then did it. But after that fateful encounter with the Master, Brendan still felt as though he had lost a piece of himself.

Was his decisiveness what he'd lost? Or was that just one small part of what that psychotic bastard had managed to take from him? He didn't want to admit that the Master had taken anything he valued, but he knew that wasn't true. He'd taken far too much.

And he'd taken even more from the Doctor over the course of centuries. Brendan's hands tightened into fists at the thought; he could feel his body tense at the thought of the Master, at the idea of all that the Doctor had ever suffered at his hands.

Brendan didn't think that he would be long undecided about what to do when the two of them encountered the Master again. He was sure that he would be so angry he'd go for the bastard with his bare hands; he didn't feel as though he had any other choice.

Of course, the Doctor wouldn't advocate that course of action, he told himself with a sigh. The Time Lord would tell him that they had to plan carefully, to try and figure out what the Master's plan would be, and to beat him at his own game.

That was why the Doctor had survived for so many centuries, albeit in different bodies. He had been smart enough to know that brute force and superior strength wasn't the way to beat an enemy as wily as the Master. Theirs was more a battle of the mind.

It came as something of a shock to Brendan to realize that he had thought "when" they tangled with the Master again, and not "if." He somehow knew that their paths would cross -- and he had the uncomfortable feeling that it would be soon.

Why was there some instinct, some sixth sense, that told him an encounter with the Master was going to be inevitable? And why wouldn't that same sense reassure him that they would come out of it the victors -- or at least that it wouldn't end in disaster?

Brendan straightened up from the console, feeling restless and unsettled. He had to find the Doctor and talk to him about how he was feeling; there was nothing that could soothe him like holding the Time Lord in his arms and simply basking in the other man's presence.

Yes, that was what he needed. That would settle his senses, make him feel grounded again. Just being with the Doctor was a soothing balm on shattered nerves, a safe oasis in any maelstrom that threatened to swirl around him and sweep him out to sea.

Would he be able to talk calmly with the Doctor about the thoughts that had been going through his head? Brendan frowned at that idea; he wasn't sure that he was ready to bring up those thoughts with his lover. They still disturbed him too much.

There was still so much indecision in his life -- maybe even more than there had been before he'd met the Doctor, when he'd thought that there was no life for him other than the one he led on Earth. There was a whole new set of rules, a different way of looking at life.

But he wasn't going to let himself be caught in a web of indecision and never know which way to turn, Brendan told himself firmly. That had never been a problem of his in the past; but now that his values were changing, he was pulled in opposite directions.

He was becoming the man who the Doctor thought he could be -- at least, he hoped he was. He'd made some bad decisions in the past, but they seemed part of a former life, a different man. He was changing, and those changes were all for the better.

Maybe this indecision that he was faced with so much of the time was proof of those changes. When he had made bad decisions, they had come to him quickly and easily. Maybe he was learning that it was a lot harder to make the right decisions for a change.

It wouldn't always be easy to make those decisions -- and Brendan knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that there would always be times when he would remain undecided, unsure of whether he'd done the right thing even after it was done.

But as long as he had the Doctor by his side, and as long as he was guided by the changes that the Time Lord's love and belief in him had made possible, he'd be all right. At least, he hoped so -- because he definitely didn't want to go back to who he'd been in the past.

***