Chapter Text
The day dawned with a twin sunrise fit to be described as one of the wonders of the universe. The sky changed from deepest ruby to clear amber, the distant snow-capped mountains glowed like diamonds, and as the silver leaves of the forest caught the golden light they looked like molten fire rippling across the valley.
The Seeker, three hundred and forty three years old according to human reckoning - and already thirty-odd years into his third regeneration - watched the spectacle from the top of the tall, graceful tower that formed the centre of his house, and smiled. It was going to be a good day, he could feel it in his bones.
(Later on, he would wonder if he quite simply had no sense of premonition at all. His father, eyes dancing with malicious satisfaction and approval - celebratory cigar in hand - would declare it The Best Day Ever, which also negated the use of the word ‘good’. And yet... When he tried to label it, ‘good’ was somehow the only word that would fit. It was A Good Day, and that was that. Never mind the Doctor’s moral conniptions.)
Opening a window, he let the breeze ruffle his black hair as the suns’ light reached a critical point and flooded the tower, the warmth soaking into him like slowly smouldering fire.
He was half-wishing for someone to share the perfection with when his comm unit obligingly buzzed. Seeing the Doctor’s name he smiled, picking up the small rectangle with a happy flourish.
“Doctor! Good morning. Fancy stopping by for some breakfast? I know you like to hang out on Earth, but seriously, when isn’t England wet and cold? The temperature is perfect here and it’s beautifully quiet...”
“Seeker! Stop chattering, this is important! Earth-” a pause during which the Seeker went through his standard one hundred point list of possible/most likely catastrophes to have befallen Earth this time (he knew that tone of voice), only for the Doctor to utterly floor him.
“Earth is gone!”
“What do you mean ‘gone’? When are you?”
“Twentythree... fourteen? I think. Thought I’d drop by to see Jack - something about some new Torchwood employees he wanted to introduce me to?”
“Oh the twins,” the Seeker replied, hesitating slightly, as the year hit him. The year he'd regenerated, the year forever etched with his failure. “Yes, the twins are... quite something. Not sure what exactly, but definitely something. And it’s just vanished?”
“Completely.”
“And you’re sure you’re in the right place?”
“Yes! Seeker, it would be really most awfully helpful of you to come along, because quite frankly I’m stumped.”
His eyes lingering on the tranquil view, the whole thing felt unreal. Maybe the Doctor’s TARDIS had just made a wrong turn somewhere...
Sighing, he forced himself to face the facts: His reluctance was quite simply down to his centuries-long ingrained dislike of being torn out of his daily routines, no matter how urgent the need - a knee-jerk reaction against having to drop his well-planned work schedule at a moment’s notice in order to run about helping the Doctor save the world with no plan or backup. Especially since at this moment the Doctor was obviously still at the hand-waving and bow tie-fidgeting stage, full of nervous energy until he found somewhere to channel it...
“What does Dad say?”
The Seeker could almost hear the Doctor’s jaw clenching.
“Nothing much, I locked him up when he wouldn’t stop laughing.”
Typical. His father might even know something useful and just refuse to co-operate because he liked to see the Doctor flail.
Although it had been... a very long time since the Doctor had actually locked the Master up; the two of them having reached some sort of agreement or truce - the Seeker wasn’t sure of the details, all he cared about was that they didn’t argue all the time. Or rather, that they didn’t drag him into their arguments. He recalled his father having some crazy scheme to take over the world in the 23rd Century, so he’d given it a wide berth except for occasional visits to Torchwood. And he had avoided Earth even more since regenerating, which was how he must have missed its disappearance... He was way out, time-wise. The Doctor’s TARDIS had to have connected the call, jumping into his timeline where she saw fit.
Pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt at blocking out his serenely beautiful planet (since it was no earthly use at the moment), the Seeker did his best to boot his brain into functioning. This was far more serious than the seemingly annual attack of Sontarans or Cybermen...
Focus. Think. Compartmentalise. Emotions (fear, worry, the natural internal turmoil following the news that his childhood home had somehow vanished) - were carefully stowed away in a box, sectioned away to be dealt with later. Right now emotions would just get in the way, and he needed to think clearly. If Earth really had somehow been stolen by someone or something, they needed more of a plan than ‘Find it! Find it! Find it!’ So far they didn’t even know who or what might be responsible... Or how.
“Is there a precedent for this? Do you know of anyone who could have done this? Come on, you usually have a hunch.”
There was a long pause which said far more than the Doctor probably meant it to. Eventually he cleared his throat.
“Well, it’s not possible, but-”
Mere moments later the Seeker appeared in the Doctor’s TARDIS.