Only one wish. No three wishes, no wishing for more wishes, so don't try and get smart. What do you wish for?
Things look bleak for you now, don't they, Doctor? You're all but a prisoner to me here, aren't you? But I don't want to hurt you, oh, no. You see, I hold the ability to give you anything.
That nasty little War you fought in, the one that cost you your family and friends and everyone else, well, I can make that all not have happened anymore. Those nasty scars from being in the Dalek prison will just fade away, and your home planet you didn't realize you missed 'til it was gone, well, that'll be back too. Won't that be nice?
Or! Or, or, or! Or you can have back that blonde tart you lost not too long ago! What's her name? Oh, that’s right, Rose. You loved her, didn't you? Wouldn't it be wonderful, having her back, suddenly appearing on deck right next to you? I can make it happen, Doctor. I can give you back your dearest Rose in the blink of an eye. Universal boundaries don't mean a thing to me.
You could even try to outwit me! I love it when they try to outwit me! I'm not beyond letting you win! You can wish for me to be blown to itty bitty pieces and off I'll go---but then you won't be able to save your darling Martha Jones from the crushing depths of Davy Jones's locker that I've sent her. But what's a couple of cannonballs and irons strapped to her legs, right? She's a clever girl, I'm sure she'll be able to figure her way out of it. How's her health looking right now? I hope she was smart, let all the air out of her lungs before she got too deep.
They say that people who go down to the depths down here actually freeze to death. Can you believe it? With how bloody hot it is out here? I know I can't.
You seem perplexed. It could be that the terms don't seem to suit you right. What's your soul in comparison to the fine little girl that's drowning as we speak? What's it to that War that doomed your race? Or your bonnie lass that was ripped from your grasp? Perhaps there's more you'd want. A life for your grandchild? A father who actually loved you? A chance to save that friend who became an enemy---you never did make up with the Master before he died, did you?
You've got your choices, Doctor. And not a lot of time left. No, I'm not taking that gag off until I know you're certain. Whaddya think, boys? Does the Doctor look certain in his choices just yet?
Right, get that off him.
What'll it be, mate? Save the girl? End the War? New pair of socks? Your soul be yours to barter with as you choose. Speak your desire and I'll grant it to you.
Aaaah, now that's a good choice.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 518