This fic is set in an AU, so I have sorta twisted a few things just to make it a tad more interesting...maybe even crack!fic-ish. But really, I wrote this fic a while ago and it's been rotting in my PC's memory for a few months now. The events that happen later may seem a bit odd. But there is/was a reason behind them that I thought seemed good at the time.

Chapter One

He stood in the entrance to the massive genetic laboratory, his greatest enemy, Ka Faraq Gatri, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his pinstriped suit and all the while staring steadily at him. "Now what?" he asked calmly, his voice echoing around the desolate and cold laboratory.

Caan's response was automatic, angry and thoughtless. "You will be exterminated!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, just think about it Dalek! What was you name?" the Doctor's voice was starting to rise and so was his authority.

Caan could have killed him, but he didn't. Hatred swelled up inside him, but there was curiosity there too.

"Dalek Caan." He grated his reply as proudly as he could, trying to regain any control over the situation that he might have lost through anger.

The Time Lord took his time to walk forwards. Every step he took was deliberately placed to gain Caan's full attention, "Dalek Caan, your entire species has been wiped out, and now the Cult of Skaro has been eradicated." The Doctor paused, his words falling thick in the stale air. "Leaving only you." He stared deep into Caan's eyepiece as if trying to observe the mutant within.

Caan was unsure whether the Doctor was trying to intimidate him, or trying to induce shame. Either way it made no difference to him. His domed head clicked lightly as it positioned his eye to better read the Doctor's face. It was in his eyes that he saw sadness, maybe even understanding, but to Caan all it represented was weakness. Caan was determined not to over analyse; he would encounter dangers if he thought too hard. Dangers that would lead him down the same path as Dalek Sec, impure and dead.

"Right now you're facing the only man in the universe who might show you some compassion." The Doctor took a few more slow deliberate steps forward and stopped just feet in front of the Dalek.

Caan's head started to twitch and click faster, trying to determine the severity of the situation. He had no idea where the Doctor's speech was leading to but also he was extremely sure he was about to say something dire. The Doctor had many weaknesses, but he did have strength and would sometimes show no mercy to his enemies; many Dalek armies had fallen by the Doctor's cunning intellect. Caan did not want the same thing to happen to him, especially since he was the last Dalek left. If he was killed then the Time Lords would have won the war, and that was unthinkable.

The Doctor continued to speak slowly, taking slow deep breaths. "I've just seen one genocide." The Doctor's eyes were wide and looked close to tears. "I won't cause another."
He paused again. "Caan," he addressed him with a look of extreme solemnity.

Caan began to glance around. He could feel his own nerves build as the Doctor reached the climax. The instinct to flee was increasing rapidly with every passing millisecond.

"Let me help you," he said. "What do you say?"

Caan once more responded angrily and without real thought. "Emergency temporal shift!"

Thought wasn't required. There was no way, and under any circumstance, that he would accept any help from his greatest enemy. Daleks did not make allies with the adversary. They were great and powerful, and could do anything they wished without assistance from lesser races.

The temporal shift procedure was engaged as soon as Caan uttered his intent and his casing began to shake violently in preparation for the dematerialisation. The cables connecting him and the makeshift Dalek military computer rattled free and fell to the floor.

He noticed with slight horror, or as much horror as a Dalek could feel, that his fuel cells were dangerously low on power. Electricity and energy were diminishing faster with every sub-procedure that was executed. He was just nanoseconds from escaping from the storm, the darkness. Ka Faraq Gatri.

Everything stopped.

Caan's eyestalk darted down towards the ground as he analysed what had happened. The floor was the same floor he had seen only seconds ago, and time had not changed direction or speed.

He was still on Earth. Still in the Empire State Building with the Doctor. And still in danger.

He glared upwards at the Doctor whose face was not only bemused but also slowly contorting into a sneer of triumph. There was only one thing left he could do because suicide wasn't an option, he would never let the Time Lords win.

Caan redirected all the power he had left into priming his gun. "Exterminate!" He screamed frantically and aimed his gun towards his target's chest.

Nothing came. Caan waved his gun arm to try and stimulate a discharge but it too had lost power. Despite knowing there was nothing he could do he continued to shriek in frenzy. "Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"

He automatically tried to seek out his comrades, tried to summon them for help, tried to remember why they weren't coming…

The Doctor took a confident step forwards and shouted in a deep voice, "Caan!"

The Dalek froze.

"Caan." He continued in a profound whisper, "they're dead." He edged forwards slightly. "You killed them. Remember? You killed your own equivalent of a family!"

"Keep back!" Caan grated in confusion and insane fear, reversing at full speed and slamming into something that had been pushed to the side earlier. He swivelled his eyestalk round to see what he was cornered against and found the blank stare of his ex-leader's empty casing gazing down accusingly upon him.

The true body of Dalek Sec lay stiff on the stage of a theatre somewhere inside the building. Caan's travel machine started to quiver for no obvious reason; this quiver was too deep for him to understand.

"What's wrong, Caan?" the Doctor asked with his head held high. "You look like you've seen a ghost," the Doctor taunted and grinned at his reaction. The Doctor moved forward, trying to get even closer.

Caan screamed at him, "keep back!" He raised his sucker arm in a threatening manner and held it inches away from the Doctor's face, ready to suffocate him if he got too close.

The Doctor took a slow intake of breath and then merely brushed his arm gently out of the way. "It's okay." He said softly, continuing to grip Caan's arm, "it's natural to be frightened of change." He paused. "-And believe me, it is going to happen."

Caan gazed out at the Doctor. He didn't try to remove his hand from his arm. "Daleks do not fear!" Caan barked, "I am a pure Dalek, and Daleks are perfect. I — will — not — change!"

"If you want to survive, Caan, then you must change." The Doctor's head nodded slightly as he said 'must'. "Change is nothing! People do it all the time." He continued.

"You change because you are weak." Caan growled and finally rejected the Doctor's touch with a brisk flick of his arm.

For a small moment a look of defiance spread across the Doctor's face. He looked ready to retort but there was a disturbance outside the laboratory. Both Caan and the Doctor turned to observe as three figures stumbled into the massive room. The Doctor looked like he had great concern for the middle figure, one of the less deformed pig slaves, whilst Caan looked on in complete disgust.

"Doctor!" one of the females shouted and aimed a glare at Caan. Her and the other human carefully lowered the pig slave onto the ground. She placed her hand on the creature's neck and said, "it's his heart, it's racing. I've never seen anything like it before." She sounded like she knew what she was talking about. The Doctor walked towards them, turning his back on Caan and kneeling down beside the weak crippled figure.

"What is it, Doctor?" the blonde female asked, her voice full of disgusting emotions. Caan gazed on impassively as they fussed over the pointless creature. "What's the matter with him? He say's he can't breathe." Her voice was an irritating whine.

"None of the slaves survive for long, most of them only live for a few weeks. I was lucky. I only held on because I had you," the pig slave managed to reply with difficulty.

Caan didn't understand, nor did he want to know what the slave had meant by 'I only held on because I had you'. These were emotions that Daleks scorned the most because they were the most useless instinct to occur in a sapient being, and also because it was far beyond their genetic capacity to comprehend. All he needed to know was that those emotions were pointless and made you weak.
The commotion with the pig slave continued as the pathetic human pleaded with the Time Lord to save the foul creature. The prospect of helping the slave was nauseating.

He backed away slightly as the Doctor jumped up in realisation and started to prance foolishly around the laboratory as if he wasn't even there. Caan might have taken offence at it, but he didn't. He watched in wretched curiosity as the Timelord ranted to his audience how he was going to save Laszlo, the pig slave's, life.

"What do I need?!" He yelled as he threw off his long coat, glanced quickly at Caan and then stared around the room. "Oh, I don't know, how about a great big genetic laboratory?!" He looked up into the depths of the room, "oh look! I've got one!"

Caan eyed the Doctor as he pulled trays towards himself, mixed solutions and ignited Bunsen burners with his sonic device. His methods were crude and inaccurate yet he somehow managed without difficulty.

"There have been too many deaths today!" he yelled, "I'm not having anymore." He shot another warning look at Caan as if addressing him in person. Caan replied with an impassive stare. The Doctor then tended to the slave while he waited for the medicine to brew.

The Dalek saw no point in trying to escape; his energy reserves were critically low and the chances of being noticed and captured were high. He would just have to wait and see what his fate was before acting against them.

Minutes later and the blonde female had walked up to him, arms folded, "why'd you do it?" She asked. Caan ignored her and continued to skulk slowly around the perimeter of the group. She had the audacity to block him. She looked into his eye, "tell me!" She demanded, "why'd you do this to Laszlo? Why'd you turn him into a monster?"

He allowed her a small glance but didn't respond any further.

"Answer me!" she yelled, "I want to know." She continued like this for quite some time, and all the while Caan's annoyance was building. She was like this irritating sensation he couldn't rid of. An itch. And there was only one way he knew how to get rid of itches.
He lunged at her with his sucker-arm extended towards her face, growling slightly. Her scream did nothing to calm him; it was shrill and dramatic, and highly infuriating.

Caan could hear the Doctor shouting angrily at him, "Caan! Leave her alone!" But he was not willing to obey and continued to try and suffocate the human. The thought of ridding the universe of such a foul creature almost gave him a sense of mental relief. It was a way to balance himself.

The Doctor rammed into his arm, which loosened his grip. He was forced up against the wall with the Doctor's snarling face glaring at him through his eyepiece. Caan knew that if he had more energy he would have easily overpowered the Doctor, but he was weak and he hated it.

"Martha!" The Doctor's head turned to address his companion, who was sitting beside the pig slave and watching over him.

"Yes, Doctor?" She stood up and obediently listened to him.

Caan was still trying to break free from the Doctor's grasp mainly because he saw weakness plastered over his face and that meant he had a chance of winning the struggle.

"That clear tube thing on the table next to the brown thingamabob? Sorta looks like a syringe?" The Doctor nodded towards the item he was wanting. Martha took it and held it up. "Yeah, take it and put some of that lovely red goo in it. Once you've done that bring it here and when I use my sonic screwdriver I want you to ram that needle into the Dalek's neck and inject it."

Caan's iris widened in shock. He knew what the Doctor was going to do and he didn't like the idea of being injected, so he panicked and flailed even harder.

It didn't take long before the painful sound of the sonic screwdriver was screaming at him, the noise hurt more then the jab in his side. The contents of the injection were quick to enter his circulatory system and affect him both mentally and physically. He knocked into the nearby wall, dazed as if a rather large vehicle had collided with him.

"What's it done to it?" Martha asked from a distance.

The Doctor put his screwdriver back in its pocket. "Well Caan," he mused, "this is something you haven't felt either in a long time, or never before."

Caan looked at him. "What have you done to me?!" he demanded, fearing it was one of the genetic solutions. He did not want to be impure. Couldn't bear the thought.
It slowly got harder for him to concentrate as his mind began to wander.

"Oh, you could say I've just tucked you into bed. Sweet dreams!" The Doctor waved before turning away from him and going back to the pig slave. Caan was left confused, delirious and exceptionally weary.

A peculiar darkness engulfed him as he passed out only seconds later.