I originally did this for the FFA but it seems Immortal was faster at finishing it than me... I do not own Xander, Uncle Rory, The Master, or The Doctor. They are the property of Joss Whendon and Russel T. Davies.
‘Ok… this guy really needs to get a life.’ Xander thought as he was tied a chair in a large room. A man calling himself ‘The Master’ had appeared in a cemetery near his home in LA ranting about how the drums were so loud and he wanted peace from them.
Suddenly the man turned from the console he was at and turned to look at Xander. “I am amazed, you know. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before…”
‘See what? And if he says one more thing about this Martha lady who almost killed him, I’ll… well… I’ll do something…’ Xander thought to himself as he struggled against the bonds which held him. “What couldn’t mister master see? I wonder, why does everyone call themselves ‘Master’?” He asked, stalling for time.
The master jumped down from his position by the console. “You look so much like him, I thought he was here at first. You see, he promised the drumming would stop, but it hasn’t. I want him to hear the incessant drumming, to feel it beating in his soul. But see, My TARDIS here just proved to me that the last won’t die with him, not yet. And if I can’t make the drumming stop, if I can’t give him the drumming, maybe, you can take it. If you hear it, then he can’t help you. No one can.”
“Who do I look like? What drumming? What are you saying, man?” Xander asked the man who he was now convinced was slightly mad.
“Why The Doctor of course—the murderer of my kind, our kind actually. We are the last, though now maybe you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A race which watches over the Time Vortex. We are meant to protect it and follow it. But the drums, m’boy, the drums say different. Tell me that all the others were wrong.”
“Who’s this ‘Doctor’ person?” Xander asked as he slipped one of his hands through the now loose bindings.
The Master stopped and peered at him. Xander halted his movements, fearful that the other man could tell his hand had just escaped. When the Master turned, Xander breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you have anyone in your family who’s face changes, who is the outcast and appears every once in a while?”
‘Uncle Rory. That has to be him!' Xander thought suddenly. 'But how does this guy know Uncle Rory?'
Suddenly Xander heard a voice from outside the door, a very familiar voice. “Master! Master let me in! I want to help you, please!”
“Uncle Rory! Help! This guy has gone crazy!” Xander screamed at his one hope for rescue.
“Xander?” The voice asked, bewildered. “What are you doing… unless…”
“Yes Doctor. I’ve found your secret. You are not the last are you, old friend? Nor am I.”
“Master, let me in. Xander has nothing to do with the Time Lords.” Xander panicked when he heard that. Fearing that he would soon not be in flesh much longer he resumed fighting his bonds.
“If he has nothing to do with us, then why does he possess two hearts?” The master asked quietly, low enough to be dangerous, but loud enough to be heard.
Xander felt the blood drain from his face. Not even the girls knew that secret. He was a freak, he knew it. But why did this guy have to prove it to the world? Xander was brought out of his musings by the door opening and a man standing there. Xander stopped his struggling and turned away from his uncle, knowing that his family would now cast him out. However, he didn’t see the small cylindrical metal object the master pointed at him. “Xander…
“Sorry, Uncle Rory…” Xander didn’t see his uncle’s face as the Master pressed a button on the small object. All he felt was pain, horrible pain. It felt as if his blood was boiling and his head was going to split in two. When the pain finally stopped, Xander was still. After a few seconds, golden white lights began to race across his skin. The light encased him and grew brighter so that all of those who were watching him had to turn away.
As the light faded, they looked back, but the body of Xander Harris was nowhere to be seen and had been replaced by the body of a young man with pale skin and wavy, shoulder length red-brown hair. Yes, Xander Harris was not as he seemed.