Title: Unbroken Spirit
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, 50ficlets
Prompt: 16, Spirit
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

No matter what happened, his spirit wouldn't be broken. He'd promised himself that for centuries, and he wasn't going to let that belief go now.

The Doctor leaned his head back against the stone wall behind him, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He had no idea how long he'd been in this dungeon; it seemed like forever, but of course, that was only because he had no way of knowing.

For a Time Lord, he was bad with keeping track of time, he told himself, shaking his head slightly and looking down at his hands dangling between his legs. The cuffs on them were attached to chains that were bolted to the wall; he wasn't going anywhere, not for a long time.

There was no telling how long the Master would keep him here. He could end up being in this dank, dark dungeon for .... he sighed, shaking his head again. He wasn't going to say "forever." Even a Time Lord couldn't live that long.

Especially not in these conditions. His spirit would be broken long before his body would give out, and of course, he would always regenerate into a new one. Well, he would if he decided to let himself go on. He might very well not want to.

Not if this imprisonment was all that he had to look forward to. It was no way to live. It wasn't living, really. It was existing. That was all.

The Master would love to hear his thoughts now. That was what he'd always wanted, to break the Doctor's spirit, to make him feel that the Master was in control and he belonged to the other man. Never, the Doctor vowed. He would die first.

Which could very well be a possibility, he thought wryly, lifting his head and making himself look at the area around him. Even if he was free, he had no idea where he was. The Master had brought him here when he wasn't conscious; he didn't even know what planet he was on.

Or what time he was in, either. It looked like something out of a medieval fantasy, but for all he knew, he could be well into a far-flung future. He had absolutely no clue. And there was no one to help him get out of this situation, either.

Well .... that wasn't entirely true. He'd sent a message to Jack on the psychic paper, which had hopefully been enough for the immortal to find the Tardis. If he had, then the Doctor had a fighting change of getting out of here alive and in one piece.

If not .... then he would have a very long time to sit here and think back over the long centuries of his life, if nothing else. It wasn't a very appealing future.

At the moment, he didn't even know where the Tardis was. Hopefully, Jack would be able to find her, and through the ship, find him. It was odd that the Master hadn't brought her to wherever they were, but then, he probably hadn't wanted to leave a trace.

He was all too disturbingly familiar with Jack and the Torchwood team, and the Doctor's unusual relationship with them. That made it harder to fight him -- but hadn't going up against him always been a challenge? Now, it was just more so.

The Doctor sighed again, swallowing hard and closing his eyes. He hadn't been broken yet. That was the important thing to remember. He was still a Time Lord, still a match for the Master. He might be a captive at the moment, but he hadn't given in.

And he wasn't going to. It would take more than this to break him; the Master should know that. The thought only made the Doctor wonder just what the other man had planned for him. He was sure that it wouldn't be anything pleasant.

Whatever it was, he doubted that it would be something he'd look forward to. No, the Master had always had a way of coming up with insidious "punishments" for him, and he doubted that this time was going to be any different.

He would just have to hope that Jack could find out where he was, and get here in time to rescue him from whatever might be waiting.

Any hope he had rested on Jack, and on him knowing where to go and what to do when he received that message. With any luck, he was already on his way here; there was nothing that the Doctor could do but hold on to that hope.

His hands clenched in the cuffs, his hearts beating faster at the thought of the immortal. Why was he worried? Jack would find him. He'd been able to count on his lover for anything in the past, and he knew that wasn't going to change.

It didn't matter what he had to do to get through this, he would manage it. This was a part of who he was, and if he couldn't take the bad situations with the good ones, then he wasn't worthy of the title Time Lord. He would make it through this.

His spirit wasn't broken, no matter what the Master might think. No matter what he tried to do, he wouldn't win. The Doctor's lips thinned into a straight line, his determination to hold out against the other Time Lord evident on his features.

With that thought in his mind, he focused his attention on the hallway leading to this area of the dungeon, waiting for the Master to show himself and play his next card.

***