[Log] A man could go quite mad and not be all that bad...
Date: Spread over several days and chatlogs, beginning 01/08/09 and ending 01/28/09
Rating: PG
With: The Doctor (beyourcure
Timeline: Pre-William!Master
Summary: The Doctor decides to fix the Master and things don't end up according to either one's plans. [Or, wherein the Master gets fobwatched.]
Notes: This began with Alex (Master-mun) sharing a line that was bothering her. Then the boys started and just -- kept going. This may explain why so little of the talking is actual, you know, speaking.
"There's a difference between domestication and domination."
Also, the Doctor says that there is no domestication without a little bit of domination first, otherwise you merely have a wild animal on a leash, nothing more.
The Master says there's no such thing as a little bit of domination, not when it comes to a person, anyway; and that there are ways to domesticate without dominating.
The Doctor would like to know when the Master became an advocate of anything but domination.
The Master freely admits he has a double standard; he has no problems with domination, so long as he's the one doing it.
The Doctor thinks it's time that they break down those double standards. After all, don't they say that the submissive one is the one with true power anyway?
Whoever says that clearly isn't very good at domination. The Master likes his double standards, but thank you for the offer.
Well, as much as the Master may like it, the Doctor doesn't feel the same, so he thinks it's going to go. However, the Master should feel free to put up a fight, it'll make things more interesting that way.
The Master wants to know what happened to free will, isn't that something the Doctor used to be big on? He may also be a little nervous, but he's not admitting that.
The Doctor says that he still believes in free will but he too has a double standard.
The Master wants to point out that this undermines his stance that double standards are bad, so he should really fix his own problems before he worries about the Master's.
He never said that he has an issue with other people's double standards, it's just the Master, he's special. Isn't he lucky?
The Master wouldn't say he's all that special, really, not enough to warrant the attention. The Doctor should use his influence where it will be more... appreciated.
The Doctor doesn't need appreciation, he just needs to know that he's doing something for the betterment of others and this? Most certainly qualifies. Besides, he thought the Master always wanted to be special, to be the center of attention.
There are some kinds of attention the Master would rather avoid. Besides, he disagrees with the Doctor's idea of better. He certainly won't be better, anyway.
Oh but he will, the Doctor is going to see to that. If he didn't believe he couldn't make the Master better, he wouldn't be trying.
He may as well give up, then, because it won't work. It won't help. And the Master might be backing up a little, slowly. Not that he's scared. Just a precaution.
The Doctor notes the backing up but he won't encroach on his space just yet, just stand there with his arms crossed over his chest and smile. He says that the Master should know him better than that, when has he ever given up on something like this before?
The Master might be trying to locate the nearest exit behind him. Even if it's deeper into the TARDIS, so long as it's away from the Doctor. He says there's a first time for everything, isn't there?
The Doctor says that this is true, however today isn't going to be that first time. The Master should look at it this way, the Doctor cares too much about him to give up on him.
The Master doesn't need the Doctor's concern or his help. There has to be something more important for him to do than playing with the Master.
Not playing, simply fixing. And no, not at the moment. The TARDIS is in working order, they're simply drifting in the Vortex. Right now, the most important thing is the Master and his treatment.
The Master insists he doesn't need to be fixed. He's also backing up into a corridor by now.
The Doctor says that often times, the broken don't actually know there's something wrong with them. Not that it's the case with the Master. He knows there's something wrong, he asked the Doctor if they would stop. The Doctor is just going to give him what he wants.
The Master doesn't think he should be held accountable for anything said at that time, considering he was a little busy dying. He doesn't want them gone. He doesn't want anything to change, except perhaps this living situation. The Doctor's help is not needed.
The Doctor moves towards the door before speaking again, his pace slow and easy. The Master has it wrong. He might not want his help but he certainly needs it. And that's all the Doctor is going to do, he's going to help him, make him better. That's it. Look, he's even trying to offer a reassuring smile, though how well that works is probably up for debate.
The Master backs up more, his steps a little quicker now. He says he doesn't need help. He doesn't need anything, except to be left alone.
The Doctor says that he left the Master alone for centuries and yet the Master still found him. He had plenty of chances to be left alone but obviously, he doesn't want to be, no matter what he might think. The Doctor is doing this for him.
The Master disagrees. The Doctor is doing this for himself, and perhaps if he stops lying to himself he'll see just how bad an idea it is.
Oh, but if the Doctor were doing this for himself, he would have done it a long time ago. He tried, he really did, to think of another way because what he's going to have to do...Well, he doesn't want to, he really doesn't, but he can't think of another way, not one that would work. And he's sorry, he's so, so sorry, but it's going to be for the best.
The Master's backing up more rapidly now. And he sounds forceful when he speaks, but it's to cover the fact that for what might be the first time, the Doctor is scaring him. This is nonsense and the Doctor needs to stop.
The Doctor stays where he is, watching the Master as he moves because he's not worried about catching him right now. This was his TARDIS, he would find him when he was ready. However, he shakes his head softly, giving a sigh. He can't stop, not now. They're getting close and now it's just a matter of time and some careful planning. The TARDIS has already started and the Master shouldn't worry, he's going to make things as easy as he can, he promises.
That makes the Master stop in his tracks and he demands to know what the Doctor plans on doing to him.
The Doctor shakes his head again. He won't tell him that yet. He'll know soon though.
The Master bypasses words -- maybe he thinks he'll be more likely to get an answer that way -- and presses his words into the Doctor's mind, commanding, though there's an undertone of fear. Tell me.
Later. Smile. You'll find out soon though, just be patient. You can still do that, can't you? Don't mind if his words feel very, very calm. Look, there might even one or two soft thoughts offered, sweet and warm and intended to relax the other's fears. It's nothing to be worried over, I'll tell you that much.
His response to the soft thoughts by shutting down, shutting the Doctor out of his mind, a scowl crossing his face to hide the nervousness. And yet, I'm not comforted. The thought is dripping disdain and scorn.
Well you're going to have to be, at least for now. His thoughts are still calm, tone ever patient because he expects this of the other. You should go off, do something interesting. I might come too. Been working too much y'know.
Your ship has run out of distractions. Perhaps you should let me help you. If you have that much to do. Oh, he knows it won't get him anywhere, but his thoughts are racing for something that will, and until then, anything will do.
No, can't have you do that. Nice of you to offer though. I'll remember that. A slightly broader smile. If that's the case, maybe we'll find somewhere to go. How about that? Somewhere out of the way but interesting enough for you. What do you think? Bet you'd like to stretch your legs a little.
The offer comes as a surprise and the Master makes no effort to hide that, eyes narrowing as he looks for any hint of a threat in the offer. He's cautious in his response. Do you have something in mind? In his own mind, carefully guarded to keep the Doctor from it, he wonders the chances of getting away if they do go somewhere outside the TARDIS. Whatever they are, they're higher than the chances of him escaping right now.
No, not really. Anywhere'll do, I suppose. You can pick if you want. How about that? You'll pick and we'll go and if it works out well, maybe we could...make it a regular thing. Technically he's not lying. If things did go well, they would make it a regular thing. However it's a matter of exactly what needs to go well and he's not about to tell the Master what that might be.
He hesitates, considering, and nods slowly. All right. He considers naming a highly populated planet, easier to slip away into the crowd, but he doubts the Doctor will agree to that, so he names someplace else, someplace mostly out of the way but not without its settlements, the planetary equivalent of a small town. It has the advantage of being familiar; he's never stayed there long, never done much there, but he's visited a few times over his lives.
Brilliant. The Doctor claps his hands together and offers one of his manic grins. This is the Doctor you know and love, Master, not the slightly unsettling creature from before. When do you wanna go? Now then? I was thinking now but if you've got other plans I can wait. Might go make coffee if that's the case? Want some? I think it'd do you good, a cuppa coffee.
The Master shakes his head and tries to adjust to this sudden shift of moods, still wary. The storm may have passed for the moment but that doesn't mean it won't come back. Do I look as though I have any plans, Doctor? Now is fine.
...Good point! Well then, I'll meet you in the console room? I still want that coffee and y'know, I'm getting better! Or at least getting less rubbish. One of the two. He's very aware of the switch in his moods and it's a calculated tactic. One that, he notes, is working amusingly well.
If you insist. It's not so much that it's working to put the Master at ease as the Master trying to find a way to work the Doctor's insanity to his advantage. His guard has not gone down in the slightest.
The Doctor comes into the console room, cup of coffee in hand, smiling quite a lot. There's a spring in his step and his movements are quite excited indeed. He looks to the Master and grins quite a bit, curious if the other is ready for a bit of an adventure.
The Master's caution has not subsided; he keeps the wall to his back. His response to the other's grin is simply an eyeroll and an elaborate gesture, a wordless after you. If not for the careful way he watches every move the Doctor makes, there might be no hint of his unease.
The Doctor notes it but he pays no mind. Instead he stands at the console, manipulating the controls until he's content with what he's done. The TARDIS takes off and with the bumpy start, the door that leads into the corridor closes.
The sound of the door closing very nearly makes the Master jump and he takes a step back, back against the wall. He barely manages to keep his expression calm, watching the Doctor silently.
The Doctor watches him out of the corner of his eye as he continues to poke at the controls but soon settles back into a chair, taking a deep breath. He smiles reassuringly towards the Master and holds up his hands, as if that were supposed to reassure the other that he wasn't up to something. They would be there in moments, he explains afterward, so he really should cheer up.
The Master does not look reassured in the slightest, never relaxing his tense posture, keeping the distance of the room between the two of them. However, all he says is no need to worry, he's perfectly cheerful.
The Doctor rolls his eyes a little. He's seen the Master cheerful, he points out, and this is certainly not it. The least he could do is try a little. They were getting out after all! Change of scenery, no being trapped on the TARDIS. It's going to be good, its going to be great!
The Master reminds the Doctor that, getting out or not, he's still effectively a prisoner and it's difficult to try to be happy under those circumstances. This is the best he's going to manage.
The Doctor sighs and throws his hands up in the air. Fine, he can be that way but the Doctor is determined to enjoy their little holiday. Also, he would like to point out that the Master isn't going to get anywhere just standing there and the TARDIS very kindly opens her doors just a crack for them.
The Master glances doubtfully towards the door but edges a few steps closer, barely moving away from the wall, and suggests that the Doctor goes first.
The Doctor shakes his head, and insists that the Master have the honor of going first. However, it it would make him feel more comfortable, he'll step away from the controls before he does so.
The
Master disagrees, the Doctor's the leader in this little endeavor so it's only appropriate that he goes first. He might feel a little more comfortable with the Doctor away from the controls but really? He won't be okay with the Doctor at his back at the moment, not even for a minute.
The Doctor takes a few good steps back away from the controls but shakes his head. He says that the Master should go first, that he's earned the privilege and the Doctor won't take that away from him.
The Master does not want the privilege and he'll make that clear, but he also gets the feeling he's not going to get anywhere but stuck on the TARDIS with this argument, so he inches forwards a little more. If he can get off the TARDIS, he'll have a better chance of getting away.
The Doctor crosses his arms in wait, leaning back against the wall as he does so. He would have thought that the Master would bolt at the chance of going out first. The TARDIS gives a low hum as if she's working on something but otherwise all is still.
Normally he would have, but the Doctor's manner all day has him nervous. Every offer is a trap, and having the Doctor behind him, where he won't know what he's doing? Well, that's just idiotic. He's careful to keep the Doctor in his sights and as far away as possible as he walks across the room. It's awkward and silly but right now, survival instincts say to keep the enemy where he can be seen. Perhaps he's overly paranoid, at least for this moment, but he'll probably be happier paranoid than caught with whatever the Doctor's planning.
The Doctor is actually a little amused at the Master's behavior and has no issues displaying his feelings. And maybe once or twice he might move forward, take a few quick steps towards the console but it's with no real intent other than to see the Master's reaction
The Master can keep his face impassive, he can keep the surface of his mind calm but he can't hide the twitch of his muscles, the urge to jump and flee, and he hates himself for it. The drums don't help, urging, telling him to only way to nullify the threat is to remove it. It's not that the idea of killing the Doctor isn't tempting, especially after being trapped so long, but if he does it, he's doing it on his terms. Not on theirs. He doesn't alter course, though, winding his way steadying towards the door, hesitating only when it's finally the point of turning his back on the Doctor or walking backwards. He stalls, calls out, "Are you just going to stand there? Going to let me go alone?" Casually sardonic. But he can't completely hide the nerves.
He smiles because oh, he knows he's getting a reaction, whether the Master cares to admit it or not. However, there's little satisfaction to it in the long run so he stops after the third time and goes back to leaning back and watching. Though once the other calls back to him, he grins. "You're actually waiting for me, that's an improvement." His smile seems so sincere and maybe if this had been another day, he would have thought twice about what he was doing. Shame today isn't a different day though. Walking towards the other, he lightly taps something on the console as he passes and the TARDIS hum grows a little louder. If the Master tries to open the door any further, he'll find that i won't budge.
He doesn't quite relax at the Doctor's response, but he manages to take the few quick steps to the door as the other starts to move. His mouth is open to drawl out another comment but he reaches the door and he pushes and then he stops. The door doesn't move under his fingers and he pushes harder and no no no no, whatever it is, no, his hearts racing and he curses himself in six languages, but he knows nothing would have changed however this day had gone. Maybe before, not even that long ago, a week or two even, but not today. He turns back towards the Doctor, making an effort to remain calm through the drums pounding alongside his heartsbeat in his ears. He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and asks, all innocent curiosity as his eyes scan for possible weapons or advantages, "I thought we were going out."
He smiles again because the innocence, though it may be false, almost looks sweet. "We are," he informs, "just not yet. You're not ready yet." He's calmer now, the excitement fallen from his voice but there's still an almost cheerful air to his words. He knows he's doing the right thing and he knows he's prepared for it. Anything that might have been able to be used as a weapon had been removed from the console room long ago. His hands slip into his pockets as he speaks again and tells the Master that it's going to be easier if he doesn't struggle.
Any pretense of misunderstanding slides from the Master's face, his posture, and his sharp question is more of a demand. "What are you going to do to me?" His hands clench, ready to fight even if he has to do that without a weapon. He's not going to sit by and let the Doctor experiment on him.
"Fix you," he answers simply, and the TARDIS gives a lurch backward but the Doctor was prepared for it and keeps his footing. She's working with him, doing what she can because he's convinced her that this is right. She trusts her Doctor, even if she has her doubts and a part of her may even feel sorry for the other Time Lord. It won't stop her from revealing the Chameleon Arch though. This TARDIS has her loyalties and she never falters, not with that.
"I don't need to," he starts, but the TARDIS lurches and he stumbles and falls back against the doors. His eyes fall on the Chameleon Arch and the angry, determined expression flickers for a second to pure fear. He may not know details, or maybe he just doesn't want to believe the details his mind provides however likely they are, but he's starting to get a general idea, one he doesn't like much at all. "What are you going to do?" He shouts it this time, unable to keep the wild note of growing panic out of his voice.
Watching carefully as the Master falls back, he only shrugs slightly. He expects all of this, the demands, the yelling, even the panic. Really, if he were the Master he would be the very same way. He knows though, knows that this is the best way and at this point, the only way to fix things. "I'm going to fix you," he says again. "It's not going to be fun, it's not going to be nice but by the end of them, when you come back, I swear you'll be better." And now you can hear the real sincerity, now it's obvious that he believes in what he's doing. It's going to be easier this way, he assures. It's what's best.
"I don't need to be fixed!" His eyes travel across the console room, searching for an exit, something, anything that can be used to his advantage. His eyes keep coming back to the Chameleon Arch, though, and his voice is a pathetic mix of pleading and demanding when he speaks again. "Don't do this, whatever you're planning, stop. Stop this madness right now."
"It's not madness," he replies with a sad smile. "If this were madness it wold be much easier to do." He doesn't want this to happen, he knows it's going to hurt, hurt quite a lot, but it's going to be worth it in the end. The Master should relax, the more tense he is, the worse it's going to be. There are even a few soft thoughts offered, warm and sweet and assuring, though he has his suspicions on how they will be received.
The Master closes the Doctor out of his mind immediately upon the attempt to send the reassuring thoughts his way; at least that much he can still do, he's no longer allowed control over his body but his mind, that's his. At least for now, but there's a sickening realization that this plan will probably change that and the demands are weak and wavering in his panic. "You can't do this, what are you doing? Don't, Doctor, stop."
The Doctor simply lets his eyes fall shut at the Master's words. It's strange really, almost surreal, and for a moment something whispers that he might just be enjoying this. However, it's pushed into the back of his mind. There was nothing enjoyable about this, it's a tragedy, what has to happen but it's just that, something that needs to happen and he's accepted that long ago. "Please don't," he say softly. "Don't do that, you would have never done it before now so there's no need. Get yourself together, I'll do this as quickly as I can."
"Are you even listening to yourself? You realize it, you have to, this is lunatic, Doctor --" His hands reach out, almost as though to choke him but he stops at the last minute and ends up taking hold of the Doctor's lapels, a gesture that's almost gentle, almost childish. Every moment he's more and more sure of what's going to happen and it scares him. His voice is very nearly pleading. "Doctor, you see it, I know you do, you can't do this."
The hands that move to grip his lapels are soon covered by his own and he gently tries to pry them off. He still keeps hold though, giving them a light squeeze while his thumbs move to rub small circles against skin. All of it attempted offers of comfort, of anything that might get the Master to relax just a little. "Do you really think you can change my mind?" he asks, tone curious. "Do you really think that, at this very second, I'm going to go back on months of planning, months of debating with myself over whether this is the right thing to do or not? I'm not so easily swayed and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for that but I'm trying to give you a chance to spend your last moments with a little dignity, if you don't want to take advantage of that, maybe it's best we just do this right now."
"And what makes you think it's going to work? It didn't change anything the last time; what makes you think it's going to do anything now? Have you even thought of that?" He doesn't shove the Doctor away, doesn't even seem to notice the gentle touches as he tries to argue, tries to find something that will stop this. There's a part of him that knows, he knows it's too late but can't stop himself from fighting. Just in case, just if it works, and if not, he's not going to let it happen easily.
"No one worked with you then," the Doctor explains. "I'm going to be there now, I'll make sure everything goes smoothly and I'll fix what I can. Once we're done, you'll come back, I promise. I won't leave you there a moment longer than I have to. This is going to work, I know it will." He had doubts once, doubts that the Master may have been able to exploit if he'd known the Doctor was even considering this to begin with but they left him long ago. Now he's sure of himself and his plans, sure that this is the only and most effective way of making the Master better and nothing or no one is going to change that.
"Please, you can't -- there's another way, there's always another way." He closes his eyes, steels himself to make the offer and finally manages to get the words out. "I'll help you, how about that? You can have full run of my mind, I'll -- I'll let you do whatever you want just don't do this. Don't make me go back to -- that. Please."
The Doctor shakes his head again and the hands that had been around the Master's fall away, though only for moments. He reaches up, brushes a hand against the other's cheek and smiles sadly. "Don't do that," he says simply. "You're making promises you won't keep. You're talking out of desperation, that's all. But I promise, I won't hold it against you. You've been so good so far, I'll be quick about this, a year maybe, even less if things go well. I promise, I promise on my own TARDIS that you'll be better once you return but you really shouldn't let yourself sink so low before you're gone. It's very unbecoming."
The Master falls into Gallifreyan, cursing the Doctor and jerking away from the gentle touch against his cheek. He presses himself against the Doctor's mind, into the Doctor's mind if he can, a desperate move but if he can make him forget, or make him sleep -- even if he can confuse him enough to put this on hold, it will be something. It will give him time. If he just has a little time, he can figure out a way to stop him.
His mind slams shut at the slightest pressure and although he's mediocre at best when it comes to offensive tactics, he's very good on the defensive side of things. He too falls back into Gallifreyan as he congratulates the Master, tells him that's the way he ought to be, not pleading and begging with him. It's not the kind of man he is, he fights and fights and that's what the Doctor wants, he wants to see him fight for his last moments because he wants to remember this fondly.
The Master snarls, and the accusations fly furious, isn't that exactly what the Doctor wants to breed out of him, the fighting? Isn't he praising the very reason he's condemning him? He presses against the Doctor's mental defenses and maybe it's fear making him sloppy or maybe the Doctor's just better at this than he remembers but he can't seem to find a crack to break through.
He's not trying to break the fight in him, that's not the problem, it's the motivation behind the fight. He doesn't mind this, he's happy to see it. But they're still there and what are they saying to the Master right now? Do they want the Doctor dead? Do they want the Master to squeeze the regenerations out of him until there's nothing left?
The Master shakes his head, not protesting the words but the implication. If the Doctor would just be reasonable -- it's a futile argument but he makes it anyway -- if he would just stop. It's his hatred for the Doctor causing that reaction, he protests, it has nothing to do with the drums. The drums make him think clearer, they make him better. They chose him. The Doctor can't take that away. He won't let the Doctor take that away.
When the Doctor shakes his head this time, it's right before he takes a step back, away from the Master and towards the Chameleon Arch. The Master can try all he'd like, believe what he will but the Doctor knows what he's doing. There are a few more steps taken towards the console as he puts in the last few things he needs.
The Master doesn't follow. He would run, he wants to run, but he can't seem to get his legs to move and anyway, the only way to run is towards the Doctor and that would be a lunatic move. He tries to protest but the words get stuck. Nothing he says is going to help; he could do something, kill or hurt, but there's little likelihood that he'll get the chance to do enough damage before the Doctor manages to get to him. He doesn't know what to do and he presses back against the door, thinking, searching for an out that he knows isn't coming.
Once he's finished, the TARDIS begins her soft hum again, and the Chameleon Arch lowers just a little. She won't chase him around, the mechanism can't move that much and she can't bring herself to do it. The Doctor however, notes the small movement and brushes a few fingers lightly against he console because he knows she's doing what she can. And he points this out to the Master, tells him that even she's trying to make this easy for them before he takes a few steps closer, his intent clear.
The Master stumbles away from the Doctor as he approaches, despising his own weakness but he can't stop the pleas that come, a string of Gallifreyan, begging the Doctor to change his mind, offering him anything, from his cooperation to his life, to not do this. He hates every word that comes out of his mouth but he doesn't stop, can't stop.
The Doctor stays silent because the Master already knows what he's going to say, instead he continues to slowly approach because either the Master is going to back himself into a corner or around the console room to the side of the TARDIS that will be closer to the Chameleon Arch. And the Doctor is very patient, he can wait to see which one it's going to be.
The Master knows it's coming as well, but it doesn't stop him; if anything it makes him more desperate until he finally finds himself backed up into a corner, trapped between the TARDIS and the Doctor and nowhere to go, still letting lose a stream of curses and begging. He'll still fight, he's ready to fight but he knows it's over. He just hasn't accepted it.
And when the Master finds himself in that corner? Well, the Doctor will simply stand there and listen, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes occasionally moving to keep an eye on the Arch. He'll keep the position for some time, until the Master's words slow and only then will he approach, one hand moving to rest lightly against his shoulder. He'll gently urge the other out from the corner but he'll find the hand that had been light before seems to have a bit of force to it once the words are spoken.
He reaches up and grabs hold of the wrist of the hand on his shoulder, making an attempt to shove him away. He puts as much strength as he has behind it, and if that's not enough -- well, he doesn't know what he'll do so hopefully that will be enough.
Oh it hurts, he'll admit that and for a moment the pain flashes across his face but at the same moment the other hand emerges from it's hiding place and curls itself into a fist before slamming into the Master's stomach. Oh how he hoped it wouldn't resort to violence but well, he should have known better.
He hadn't expected that, somehow; in the list of tricks he was prepared for the Doctor to resort to, something as simple and violent as a punch to the gut never factored in. The fist lands with full force and his hand holds tight to the other's wrist and the other reaches out instinctively, grabbing hold of the Doctor's arm to keep himself upright. He gasps in a breath and chuckles dryly, his voice low. "That doesn't seem very like you, Doctor. And you're still sure you're thinking clearly?" And still his mind reaches out to brush against the Doctor's, to wrap around it if he's allowed, begging for him to stop now, offering entrance.
He informs the Master that yes, he is definitely thinking clearly. However, he also has prepared to do a lot of things he would otherwise question. This is a special case and one he will never have to repeat, so if he must do one or two things he finds unsavory, then so be it. His mind remains completely closed off, even as the other tries to entice him with the offered entrance. He takes a few steps back but his own hands have curled around the Master's wrists now and while he may not be pulling him along as well just yet, he's going to start soon enough.
He'll have to be pulled because he's not going to move along willingly. He hangs back, murmuring his last pleas in their home language, and quietly, in a part of his mind carefully guarded, waiting. Any attempt to break away now won't do much good but if he waits for the right time -- maybe. Just maybe. He has to try. And now, with the fear and the rage and the drums pounding in his mind, so loud it's almost hard to hear, he won't hesitate to kill if he gets the opening.
He pulls him along gently, carefully. This isn't something he wants dragged out but forcing him to move quickly at this point wouldn't do much good either. It isn't until they make it a little more than half way to the Arch that the Doctor moves quickly, gives the Master one or two good jerks forward before he reaches out and grabs the Arch as quickly as he can and attempts to get it on.
The Master jerks back as the Doctor reaches out for the Arch; he attempts to maneuver himself in a position to hurt the Doctor. He doesn't care how, he doesn't care how bad the damage is or what it does, just to hurt, to distract. It's desperate, it's chancy and unlikely but he tries, with an insane sort of strength.
And he'll succeed for the moment, the Doctor losing his grip on the Arch for a brief moment as he stumbles back into the console but he is not so easily put off. He lunges forward again, this time not for the Arch but for the Master himself. He's not going to hurt him, the Arch is going to do plenty of that, he just wants to get a hold of him, just for a moment, just long enough to jam the device over him. It's going ot be sloppy and he didn't want that but at this point he doesn't see it going any other way.
The Master will fight, he won't make it easy on him, but there's not much he can do. There's nowhere for him to go and he can't seem to get to a position of power where he can turn the tables. The Doctor has the upper hand and it isn't long before he missteps, he falters, and the opening is there.
And he jumps at the chance, both figuratively and literally. Grabbing the Arch, he secures it as quickly as he can, informing the TARDIS to start what she can without him while he keeps hold of the Master for the first few moments. The TARDIS does what she's told but she tries, she really does, to be as gentle as she can. It's really quite a shame there's no way to be gentle with this sort of thing
The Master lets out a low, guttural sound, somewhere between a scream and a moan. His fingers scratch against the Doctor's arms, his hands push but the strength is gone as though a switch has been flipped. He's lost, he's not going to stop this and he hisses a curse that's almost nonsense in their native tongue, hateful and terrified and furious and below it all, something that might just be betrayal.
He ignores it, he ignores it all because this is right, this is what has to be done. He'll stay there though, stay until the last possible moments and let the Master claw at him, do what he liked but he keep hold until he can't anymore. Only when the TARDIS requires him to put in a few extra things into the console does he move and even then he returns quickly, though now with the process well underway, he does not get close enough to touch.
The Doctor lets go and the fight drains out of the Master, gives way to jerky whimpers even before the last things are input. He remembers this, he remembers the change and how it hurt and more than that, he remembers being human, being weak and powerless and empty, his mind so small and empty and the quiet whimpers give way to screams as the process goes underway.
He doesn't cover his ears but now, now is the first time he looks away. It's not doubt that makes him do so though, it's a need to make it better, to somehow manage to keep the process going yet find a way to stop those screams. There's nothing he can do though and he knows that so he stands there, eyes locked on the Time Roter because that was far easier to watch at this moment.
His mind lashes out against the Doctor's, beyond his control, angry at first and eventually disintegrating into a childish begging, asking him to make it stop, as his mind changes and relationships shift, memory alters and he lashes against that, too, a mental clawing against the implants in an attempt to stay himself. He fights until the last moments and when it's over, when there's no more chances to fight and everything is foggy and there's just a split second knowledge that something's wrong, something's gone -- when it's over, he collapses.
The Doctor tries to block it out, tries to ignore the pleas and the hated and all of it. He can't though, not completely and it's only then that he turns his back on the Master completely. Consider this his defeat, no mater how small it may be. It is the first time he wonders what he's done though the thought only crosses his mind for a moment before he busies himself with the console. And when he hears the Master collapse behind him, he takes a breath and turns back around, moving to remove the Arch and and gather him into his arms. The TARDIS doors open wider and when the Doctor walks out into the cool night air, he tries to remember that his name is Dr. John Smith and he's just acquired a new patient. Looking down to the man in his arms, the sad smile appears yet again as he mutters a soft hello to William.
Rating: PG
With: The Doctor (beyourcure
Timeline: Pre-William!Master
Summary: The Doctor decides to fix the Master and things don't end up according to either one's plans. [Or, wherein the Master gets fobwatched.]
Notes: This began with Alex (Master-mun) sharing a line that was bothering her. Then the boys started and just -- kept going. This may explain why so little of the talking is actual, you know, speaking.
"There's a difference between domestication and domination."
Also, the Doctor says that there is no domestication without a little bit of domination first, otherwise you merely have a wild animal on a leash, nothing more.
The Master says there's no such thing as a little bit of domination, not when it comes to a person, anyway; and that there are ways to domesticate without dominating.
The Doctor would like to know when the Master became an advocate of anything but domination.
The Master freely admits he has a double standard; he has no problems with domination, so long as he's the one doing it.
The Doctor thinks it's time that they break down those double standards. After all, don't they say that the submissive one is the one with true power anyway?
Whoever says that clearly isn't very good at domination. The Master likes his double standards, but thank you for the offer.
Well, as much as the Master may like it, the Doctor doesn't feel the same, so he thinks it's going to go. However, the Master should feel free to put up a fight, it'll make things more interesting that way.
The Master wants to know what happened to free will, isn't that something the Doctor used to be big on? He may also be a little nervous, but he's not admitting that.
The Doctor says that he still believes in free will but he too has a double standard.
The Master wants to point out that this undermines his stance that double standards are bad, so he should really fix his own problems before he worries about the Master's.
He never said that he has an issue with other people's double standards, it's just the Master, he's special. Isn't he lucky?
The Master wouldn't say he's all that special, really, not enough to warrant the attention. The Doctor should use his influence where it will be more... appreciated.
The Doctor doesn't need appreciation, he just needs to know that he's doing something for the betterment of others and this? Most certainly qualifies. Besides, he thought the Master always wanted to be special, to be the center of attention.
There are some kinds of attention the Master would rather avoid. Besides, he disagrees with the Doctor's idea of better. He certainly won't be better, anyway.
Oh but he will, the Doctor is going to see to that. If he didn't believe he couldn't make the Master better, he wouldn't be trying.
He may as well give up, then, because it won't work. It won't help. And the Master might be backing up a little, slowly. Not that he's scared. Just a precaution.
The Doctor notes the backing up but he won't encroach on his space just yet, just stand there with his arms crossed over his chest and smile. He says that the Master should know him better than that, when has he ever given up on something like this before?
The Master might be trying to locate the nearest exit behind him. Even if it's deeper into the TARDIS, so long as it's away from the Doctor. He says there's a first time for everything, isn't there?
The Doctor says that this is true, however today isn't going to be that first time. The Master should look at it this way, the Doctor cares too much about him to give up on him.
The Master doesn't need the Doctor's concern or his help. There has to be something more important for him to do than playing with the Master.
Not playing, simply fixing. And no, not at the moment. The TARDIS is in working order, they're simply drifting in the Vortex. Right now, the most important thing is the Master and his treatment.
The Master insists he doesn't need to be fixed. He's also backing up into a corridor by now.
The Doctor says that often times, the broken don't actually know there's something wrong with them. Not that it's the case with the Master. He knows there's something wrong, he asked the Doctor if they would stop. The Doctor is just going to give him what he wants.
The Master doesn't think he should be held accountable for anything said at that time, considering he was a little busy dying. He doesn't want them gone. He doesn't want anything to change, except perhaps this living situation. The Doctor's help is not needed.
The Doctor moves towards the door before speaking again, his pace slow and easy. The Master has it wrong. He might not want his help but he certainly needs it. And that's all the Doctor is going to do, he's going to help him, make him better. That's it. Look, he's even trying to offer a reassuring smile, though how well that works is probably up for debate.
The Master backs up more, his steps a little quicker now. He says he doesn't need help. He doesn't need anything, except to be left alone.
The Doctor says that he left the Master alone for centuries and yet the Master still found him. He had plenty of chances to be left alone but obviously, he doesn't want to be, no matter what he might think. The Doctor is doing this for him.
The Master disagrees. The Doctor is doing this for himself, and perhaps if he stops lying to himself he'll see just how bad an idea it is.
Oh, but if the Doctor were doing this for himself, he would have done it a long time ago. He tried, he really did, to think of another way because what he's going to have to do...Well, he doesn't want to, he really doesn't, but he can't think of another way, not one that would work. And he's sorry, he's so, so sorry, but it's going to be for the best.
The Master's backing up more rapidly now. And he sounds forceful when he speaks, but it's to cover the fact that for what might be the first time, the Doctor is scaring him. This is nonsense and the Doctor needs to stop.
The Doctor stays where he is, watching the Master as he moves because he's not worried about catching him right now. This was his TARDIS, he would find him when he was ready. However, he shakes his head softly, giving a sigh. He can't stop, not now. They're getting close and now it's just a matter of time and some careful planning. The TARDIS has already started and the Master shouldn't worry, he's going to make things as easy as he can, he promises.
That makes the Master stop in his tracks and he demands to know what the Doctor plans on doing to him.
The Doctor shakes his head again. He won't tell him that yet. He'll know soon though.
The Master bypasses words -- maybe he thinks he'll be more likely to get an answer that way -- and presses his words into the Doctor's mind, commanding, though there's an undertone of fear. Tell me.
Later. Smile. You'll find out soon though, just be patient. You can still do that, can't you? Don't mind if his words feel very, very calm. Look, there might even one or two soft thoughts offered, sweet and warm and intended to relax the other's fears. It's nothing to be worried over, I'll tell you that much.
His response to the soft thoughts by shutting down, shutting the Doctor out of his mind, a scowl crossing his face to hide the nervousness. And yet, I'm not comforted. The thought is dripping disdain and scorn.
Well you're going to have to be, at least for now. His thoughts are still calm, tone ever patient because he expects this of the other. You should go off, do something interesting. I might come too. Been working too much y'know.
Your ship has run out of distractions. Perhaps you should let me help you. If you have that much to do. Oh, he knows it won't get him anywhere, but his thoughts are racing for something that will, and until then, anything will do.
No, can't have you do that. Nice of you to offer though. I'll remember that. A slightly broader smile. If that's the case, maybe we'll find somewhere to go. How about that? Somewhere out of the way but interesting enough for you. What do you think? Bet you'd like to stretch your legs a little.
The offer comes as a surprise and the Master makes no effort to hide that, eyes narrowing as he looks for any hint of a threat in the offer. He's cautious in his response. Do you have something in mind? In his own mind, carefully guarded to keep the Doctor from it, he wonders the chances of getting away if they do go somewhere outside the TARDIS. Whatever they are, they're higher than the chances of him escaping right now.
No, not really. Anywhere'll do, I suppose. You can pick if you want. How about that? You'll pick and we'll go and if it works out well, maybe we could...make it a regular thing. Technically he's not lying. If things did go well, they would make it a regular thing. However it's a matter of exactly what needs to go well and he's not about to tell the Master what that might be.
He hesitates, considering, and nods slowly. All right. He considers naming a highly populated planet, easier to slip away into the crowd, but he doubts the Doctor will agree to that, so he names someplace else, someplace mostly out of the way but not without its settlements, the planetary equivalent of a small town. It has the advantage of being familiar; he's never stayed there long, never done much there, but he's visited a few times over his lives.
Brilliant. The Doctor claps his hands together and offers one of his manic grins. This is the Doctor you know and love, Master, not the slightly unsettling creature from before. When do you wanna go? Now then? I was thinking now but if you've got other plans I can wait. Might go make coffee if that's the case? Want some? I think it'd do you good, a cuppa coffee.
The Master shakes his head and tries to adjust to this sudden shift of moods, still wary. The storm may have passed for the moment but that doesn't mean it won't come back. Do I look as though I have any plans, Doctor? Now is fine.
...Good point! Well then, I'll meet you in the console room? I still want that coffee and y'know, I'm getting better! Or at least getting less rubbish. One of the two. He's very aware of the switch in his moods and it's a calculated tactic. One that, he notes, is working amusingly well.
If you insist. It's not so much that it's working to put the Master at ease as the Master trying to find a way to work the Doctor's insanity to his advantage. His guard has not gone down in the slightest.
The Doctor comes into the console room, cup of coffee in hand, smiling quite a lot. There's a spring in his step and his movements are quite excited indeed. He looks to the Master and grins quite a bit, curious if the other is ready for a bit of an adventure.
The Master's caution has not subsided; he keeps the wall to his back. His response to the other's grin is simply an eyeroll and an elaborate gesture, a wordless after you. If not for the careful way he watches every move the Doctor makes, there might be no hint of his unease.
The Doctor notes it but he pays no mind. Instead he stands at the console, manipulating the controls until he's content with what he's done. The TARDIS takes off and with the bumpy start, the door that leads into the corridor closes.
The sound of the door closing very nearly makes the Master jump and he takes a step back, back against the wall. He barely manages to keep his expression calm, watching the Doctor silently.
The Doctor watches him out of the corner of his eye as he continues to poke at the controls but soon settles back into a chair, taking a deep breath. He smiles reassuringly towards the Master and holds up his hands, as if that were supposed to reassure the other that he wasn't up to something. They would be there in moments, he explains afterward, so he really should cheer up.
The Master does not look reassured in the slightest, never relaxing his tense posture, keeping the distance of the room between the two of them. However, all he says is no need to worry, he's perfectly cheerful.
The Doctor rolls his eyes a little. He's seen the Master cheerful, he points out, and this is certainly not it. The least he could do is try a little. They were getting out after all! Change of scenery, no being trapped on the TARDIS. It's going to be good, its going to be great!
The Master reminds the Doctor that, getting out or not, he's still effectively a prisoner and it's difficult to try to be happy under those circumstances. This is the best he's going to manage.
The Doctor sighs and throws his hands up in the air. Fine, he can be that way but the Doctor is determined to enjoy their little holiday. Also, he would like to point out that the Master isn't going to get anywhere just standing there and the TARDIS very kindly opens her doors just a crack for them.
The Master glances doubtfully towards the door but edges a few steps closer, barely moving away from the wall, and suggests that the Doctor goes first.
The Doctor shakes his head, and insists that the Master have the honor of going first. However, it it would make him feel more comfortable, he'll step away from the controls before he does so.
The
Master disagrees, the Doctor's the leader in this little endeavor so it's only appropriate that he goes first. He might feel a little more comfortable with the Doctor away from the controls but really? He won't be okay with the Doctor at his back at the moment, not even for a minute.
The Doctor takes a few good steps back away from the controls but shakes his head. He says that the Master should go first, that he's earned the privilege and the Doctor won't take that away from him.
The Master does not want the privilege and he'll make that clear, but he also gets the feeling he's not going to get anywhere but stuck on the TARDIS with this argument, so he inches forwards a little more. If he can get off the TARDIS, he'll have a better chance of getting away.
The Doctor crosses his arms in wait, leaning back against the wall as he does so. He would have thought that the Master would bolt at the chance of going out first. The TARDIS gives a low hum as if she's working on something but otherwise all is still.
Normally he would have, but the Doctor's manner all day has him nervous. Every offer is a trap, and having the Doctor behind him, where he won't know what he's doing? Well, that's just idiotic. He's careful to keep the Doctor in his sights and as far away as possible as he walks across the room. It's awkward and silly but right now, survival instincts say to keep the enemy where he can be seen. Perhaps he's overly paranoid, at least for this moment, but he'll probably be happier paranoid than caught with whatever the Doctor's planning.
The Doctor is actually a little amused at the Master's behavior and has no issues displaying his feelings. And maybe once or twice he might move forward, take a few quick steps towards the console but it's with no real intent other than to see the Master's reaction
The Master can keep his face impassive, he can keep the surface of his mind calm but he can't hide the twitch of his muscles, the urge to jump and flee, and he hates himself for it. The drums don't help, urging, telling him to only way to nullify the threat is to remove it. It's not that the idea of killing the Doctor isn't tempting, especially after being trapped so long, but if he does it, he's doing it on his terms. Not on theirs. He doesn't alter course, though, winding his way steadying towards the door, hesitating only when it's finally the point of turning his back on the Doctor or walking backwards. He stalls, calls out, "Are you just going to stand there? Going to let me go alone?" Casually sardonic. But he can't completely hide the nerves.
He smiles because oh, he knows he's getting a reaction, whether the Master cares to admit it or not. However, there's little satisfaction to it in the long run so he stops after the third time and goes back to leaning back and watching. Though once the other calls back to him, he grins. "You're actually waiting for me, that's an improvement." His smile seems so sincere and maybe if this had been another day, he would have thought twice about what he was doing. Shame today isn't a different day though. Walking towards the other, he lightly taps something on the console as he passes and the TARDIS hum grows a little louder. If the Master tries to open the door any further, he'll find that i won't budge.
He doesn't quite relax at the Doctor's response, but he manages to take the few quick steps to the door as the other starts to move. His mouth is open to drawl out another comment but he reaches the door and he pushes and then he stops. The door doesn't move under his fingers and he pushes harder and no no no no, whatever it is, no, his hearts racing and he curses himself in six languages, but he knows nothing would have changed however this day had gone. Maybe before, not even that long ago, a week or two even, but not today. He turns back towards the Doctor, making an effort to remain calm through the drums pounding alongside his heartsbeat in his ears. He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and asks, all innocent curiosity as his eyes scan for possible weapons or advantages, "I thought we were going out."
He smiles again because the innocence, though it may be false, almost looks sweet. "We are," he informs, "just not yet. You're not ready yet." He's calmer now, the excitement fallen from his voice but there's still an almost cheerful air to his words. He knows he's doing the right thing and he knows he's prepared for it. Anything that might have been able to be used as a weapon had been removed from the console room long ago. His hands slip into his pockets as he speaks again and tells the Master that it's going to be easier if he doesn't struggle.
Any pretense of misunderstanding slides from the Master's face, his posture, and his sharp question is more of a demand. "What are you going to do to me?" His hands clench, ready to fight even if he has to do that without a weapon. He's not going to sit by and let the Doctor experiment on him.
"Fix you," he answers simply, and the TARDIS gives a lurch backward but the Doctor was prepared for it and keeps his footing. She's working with him, doing what she can because he's convinced her that this is right. She trusts her Doctor, even if she has her doubts and a part of her may even feel sorry for the other Time Lord. It won't stop her from revealing the Chameleon Arch though. This TARDIS has her loyalties and she never falters, not with that.
"I don't need to," he starts, but the TARDIS lurches and he stumbles and falls back against the doors. His eyes fall on the Chameleon Arch and the angry, determined expression flickers for a second to pure fear. He may not know details, or maybe he just doesn't want to believe the details his mind provides however likely they are, but he's starting to get a general idea, one he doesn't like much at all. "What are you going to do?" He shouts it this time, unable to keep the wild note of growing panic out of his voice.
Watching carefully as the Master falls back, he only shrugs slightly. He expects all of this, the demands, the yelling, even the panic. Really, if he were the Master he would be the very same way. He knows though, knows that this is the best way and at this point, the only way to fix things. "I'm going to fix you," he says again. "It's not going to be fun, it's not going to be nice but by the end of them, when you come back, I swear you'll be better." And now you can hear the real sincerity, now it's obvious that he believes in what he's doing. It's going to be easier this way, he assures. It's what's best.
"I don't need to be fixed!" His eyes travel across the console room, searching for an exit, something, anything that can be used to his advantage. His eyes keep coming back to the Chameleon Arch, though, and his voice is a pathetic mix of pleading and demanding when he speaks again. "Don't do this, whatever you're planning, stop. Stop this madness right now."
"It's not madness," he replies with a sad smile. "If this were madness it wold be much easier to do." He doesn't want this to happen, he knows it's going to hurt, hurt quite a lot, but it's going to be worth it in the end. The Master should relax, the more tense he is, the worse it's going to be. There are even a few soft thoughts offered, warm and sweet and assuring, though he has his suspicions on how they will be received.
The Master closes the Doctor out of his mind immediately upon the attempt to send the reassuring thoughts his way; at least that much he can still do, he's no longer allowed control over his body but his mind, that's his. At least for now, but there's a sickening realization that this plan will probably change that and the demands are weak and wavering in his panic. "You can't do this, what are you doing? Don't, Doctor, stop."
The Doctor simply lets his eyes fall shut at the Master's words. It's strange really, almost surreal, and for a moment something whispers that he might just be enjoying this. However, it's pushed into the back of his mind. There was nothing enjoyable about this, it's a tragedy, what has to happen but it's just that, something that needs to happen and he's accepted that long ago. "Please don't," he say softly. "Don't do that, you would have never done it before now so there's no need. Get yourself together, I'll do this as quickly as I can."
"Are you even listening to yourself? You realize it, you have to, this is lunatic, Doctor --" His hands reach out, almost as though to choke him but he stops at the last minute and ends up taking hold of the Doctor's lapels, a gesture that's almost gentle, almost childish. Every moment he's more and more sure of what's going to happen and it scares him. His voice is very nearly pleading. "Doctor, you see it, I know you do, you can't do this."
The hands that move to grip his lapels are soon covered by his own and he gently tries to pry them off. He still keeps hold though, giving them a light squeeze while his thumbs move to rub small circles against skin. All of it attempted offers of comfort, of anything that might get the Master to relax just a little. "Do you really think you can change my mind?" he asks, tone curious. "Do you really think that, at this very second, I'm going to go back on months of planning, months of debating with myself over whether this is the right thing to do or not? I'm not so easily swayed and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for that but I'm trying to give you a chance to spend your last moments with a little dignity, if you don't want to take advantage of that, maybe it's best we just do this right now."
"And what makes you think it's going to work? It didn't change anything the last time; what makes you think it's going to do anything now? Have you even thought of that?" He doesn't shove the Doctor away, doesn't even seem to notice the gentle touches as he tries to argue, tries to find something that will stop this. There's a part of him that knows, he knows it's too late but can't stop himself from fighting. Just in case, just if it works, and if not, he's not going to let it happen easily.
"No one worked with you then," the Doctor explains. "I'm going to be there now, I'll make sure everything goes smoothly and I'll fix what I can. Once we're done, you'll come back, I promise. I won't leave you there a moment longer than I have to. This is going to work, I know it will." He had doubts once, doubts that the Master may have been able to exploit if he'd known the Doctor was even considering this to begin with but they left him long ago. Now he's sure of himself and his plans, sure that this is the only and most effective way of making the Master better and nothing or no one is going to change that.
"Please, you can't -- there's another way, there's always another way." He closes his eyes, steels himself to make the offer and finally manages to get the words out. "I'll help you, how about that? You can have full run of my mind, I'll -- I'll let you do whatever you want just don't do this. Don't make me go back to -- that. Please."
The Doctor shakes his head again and the hands that had been around the Master's fall away, though only for moments. He reaches up, brushes a hand against the other's cheek and smiles sadly. "Don't do that," he says simply. "You're making promises you won't keep. You're talking out of desperation, that's all. But I promise, I won't hold it against you. You've been so good so far, I'll be quick about this, a year maybe, even less if things go well. I promise, I promise on my own TARDIS that you'll be better once you return but you really shouldn't let yourself sink so low before you're gone. It's very unbecoming."
The Master falls into Gallifreyan, cursing the Doctor and jerking away from the gentle touch against his cheek. He presses himself against the Doctor's mind, into the Doctor's mind if he can, a desperate move but if he can make him forget, or make him sleep -- even if he can confuse him enough to put this on hold, it will be something. It will give him time. If he just has a little time, he can figure out a way to stop him.
His mind slams shut at the slightest pressure and although he's mediocre at best when it comes to offensive tactics, he's very good on the defensive side of things. He too falls back into Gallifreyan as he congratulates the Master, tells him that's the way he ought to be, not pleading and begging with him. It's not the kind of man he is, he fights and fights and that's what the Doctor wants, he wants to see him fight for his last moments because he wants to remember this fondly.
The Master snarls, and the accusations fly furious, isn't that exactly what the Doctor wants to breed out of him, the fighting? Isn't he praising the very reason he's condemning him? He presses against the Doctor's mental defenses and maybe it's fear making him sloppy or maybe the Doctor's just better at this than he remembers but he can't seem to find a crack to break through.
He's not trying to break the fight in him, that's not the problem, it's the motivation behind the fight. He doesn't mind this, he's happy to see it. But they're still there and what are they saying to the Master right now? Do they want the Doctor dead? Do they want the Master to squeeze the regenerations out of him until there's nothing left?
The Master shakes his head, not protesting the words but the implication. If the Doctor would just be reasonable -- it's a futile argument but he makes it anyway -- if he would just stop. It's his hatred for the Doctor causing that reaction, he protests, it has nothing to do with the drums. The drums make him think clearer, they make him better. They chose him. The Doctor can't take that away. He won't let the Doctor take that away.
When the Doctor shakes his head this time, it's right before he takes a step back, away from the Master and towards the Chameleon Arch. The Master can try all he'd like, believe what he will but the Doctor knows what he's doing. There are a few more steps taken towards the console as he puts in the last few things he needs.
The Master doesn't follow. He would run, he wants to run, but he can't seem to get his legs to move and anyway, the only way to run is towards the Doctor and that would be a lunatic move. He tries to protest but the words get stuck. Nothing he says is going to help; he could do something, kill or hurt, but there's little likelihood that he'll get the chance to do enough damage before the Doctor manages to get to him. He doesn't know what to do and he presses back against the door, thinking, searching for an out that he knows isn't coming.
Once he's finished, the TARDIS begins her soft hum again, and the Chameleon Arch lowers just a little. She won't chase him around, the mechanism can't move that much and she can't bring herself to do it. The Doctor however, notes the small movement and brushes a few fingers lightly against he console because he knows she's doing what she can. And he points this out to the Master, tells him that even she's trying to make this easy for them before he takes a few steps closer, his intent clear.
The Master stumbles away from the Doctor as he approaches, despising his own weakness but he can't stop the pleas that come, a string of Gallifreyan, begging the Doctor to change his mind, offering him anything, from his cooperation to his life, to not do this. He hates every word that comes out of his mouth but he doesn't stop, can't stop.
The Doctor stays silent because the Master already knows what he's going to say, instead he continues to slowly approach because either the Master is going to back himself into a corner or around the console room to the side of the TARDIS that will be closer to the Chameleon Arch. And the Doctor is very patient, he can wait to see which one it's going to be.
The Master knows it's coming as well, but it doesn't stop him; if anything it makes him more desperate until he finally finds himself backed up into a corner, trapped between the TARDIS and the Doctor and nowhere to go, still letting lose a stream of curses and begging. He'll still fight, he's ready to fight but he knows it's over. He just hasn't accepted it.
And when the Master finds himself in that corner? Well, the Doctor will simply stand there and listen, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes occasionally moving to keep an eye on the Arch. He'll keep the position for some time, until the Master's words slow and only then will he approach, one hand moving to rest lightly against his shoulder. He'll gently urge the other out from the corner but he'll find the hand that had been light before seems to have a bit of force to it once the words are spoken.
He reaches up and grabs hold of the wrist of the hand on his shoulder, making an attempt to shove him away. He puts as much strength as he has behind it, and if that's not enough -- well, he doesn't know what he'll do so hopefully that will be enough.
Oh it hurts, he'll admit that and for a moment the pain flashes across his face but at the same moment the other hand emerges from it's hiding place and curls itself into a fist before slamming into the Master's stomach. Oh how he hoped it wouldn't resort to violence but well, he should have known better.
He hadn't expected that, somehow; in the list of tricks he was prepared for the Doctor to resort to, something as simple and violent as a punch to the gut never factored in. The fist lands with full force and his hand holds tight to the other's wrist and the other reaches out instinctively, grabbing hold of the Doctor's arm to keep himself upright. He gasps in a breath and chuckles dryly, his voice low. "That doesn't seem very like you, Doctor. And you're still sure you're thinking clearly?" And still his mind reaches out to brush against the Doctor's, to wrap around it if he's allowed, begging for him to stop now, offering entrance.
He informs the Master that yes, he is definitely thinking clearly. However, he also has prepared to do a lot of things he would otherwise question. This is a special case and one he will never have to repeat, so if he must do one or two things he finds unsavory, then so be it. His mind remains completely closed off, even as the other tries to entice him with the offered entrance. He takes a few steps back but his own hands have curled around the Master's wrists now and while he may not be pulling him along as well just yet, he's going to start soon enough.
He'll have to be pulled because he's not going to move along willingly. He hangs back, murmuring his last pleas in their home language, and quietly, in a part of his mind carefully guarded, waiting. Any attempt to break away now won't do much good but if he waits for the right time -- maybe. Just maybe. He has to try. And now, with the fear and the rage and the drums pounding in his mind, so loud it's almost hard to hear, he won't hesitate to kill if he gets the opening.
He pulls him along gently, carefully. This isn't something he wants dragged out but forcing him to move quickly at this point wouldn't do much good either. It isn't until they make it a little more than half way to the Arch that the Doctor moves quickly, gives the Master one or two good jerks forward before he reaches out and grabs the Arch as quickly as he can and attempts to get it on.
The Master jerks back as the Doctor reaches out for the Arch; he attempts to maneuver himself in a position to hurt the Doctor. He doesn't care how, he doesn't care how bad the damage is or what it does, just to hurt, to distract. It's desperate, it's chancy and unlikely but he tries, with an insane sort of strength.
And he'll succeed for the moment, the Doctor losing his grip on the Arch for a brief moment as he stumbles back into the console but he is not so easily put off. He lunges forward again, this time not for the Arch but for the Master himself. He's not going to hurt him, the Arch is going to do plenty of that, he just wants to get a hold of him, just for a moment, just long enough to jam the device over him. It's going ot be sloppy and he didn't want that but at this point he doesn't see it going any other way.
The Master will fight, he won't make it easy on him, but there's not much he can do. There's nowhere for him to go and he can't seem to get to a position of power where he can turn the tables. The Doctor has the upper hand and it isn't long before he missteps, he falters, and the opening is there.
And he jumps at the chance, both figuratively and literally. Grabbing the Arch, he secures it as quickly as he can, informing the TARDIS to start what she can without him while he keeps hold of the Master for the first few moments. The TARDIS does what she's told but she tries, she really does, to be as gentle as she can. It's really quite a shame there's no way to be gentle with this sort of thing
The Master lets out a low, guttural sound, somewhere between a scream and a moan. His fingers scratch against the Doctor's arms, his hands push but the strength is gone as though a switch has been flipped. He's lost, he's not going to stop this and he hisses a curse that's almost nonsense in their native tongue, hateful and terrified and furious and below it all, something that might just be betrayal.
He ignores it, he ignores it all because this is right, this is what has to be done. He'll stay there though, stay until the last possible moments and let the Master claw at him, do what he liked but he keep hold until he can't anymore. Only when the TARDIS requires him to put in a few extra things into the console does he move and even then he returns quickly, though now with the process well underway, he does not get close enough to touch.
The Doctor lets go and the fight drains out of the Master, gives way to jerky whimpers even before the last things are input. He remembers this, he remembers the change and how it hurt and more than that, he remembers being human, being weak and powerless and empty, his mind so small and empty and the quiet whimpers give way to screams as the process goes underway.
He doesn't cover his ears but now, now is the first time he looks away. It's not doubt that makes him do so though, it's a need to make it better, to somehow manage to keep the process going yet find a way to stop those screams. There's nothing he can do though and he knows that so he stands there, eyes locked on the Time Roter because that was far easier to watch at this moment.
His mind lashes out against the Doctor's, beyond his control, angry at first and eventually disintegrating into a childish begging, asking him to make it stop, as his mind changes and relationships shift, memory alters and he lashes against that, too, a mental clawing against the implants in an attempt to stay himself. He fights until the last moments and when it's over, when there's no more chances to fight and everything is foggy and there's just a split second knowledge that something's wrong, something's gone -- when it's over, he collapses.
The Doctor tries to block it out, tries to ignore the pleas and the hated and all of it. He can't though, not completely and it's only then that he turns his back on the Master completely. Consider this his defeat, no mater how small it may be. It is the first time he wonders what he's done though the thought only crosses his mind for a moment before he busies himself with the console. And when he hears the Master collapse behind him, he takes a breath and turns back around, moving to remove the Arch and and gather him into his arms. The TARDIS doors open wider and when the Doctor walks out into the cool night air, he tries to remember that his name is Dr. John Smith and he's just acquired a new patient. Looking down to the man in his arms, the sad smile appears yet again as he mutters a soft hello to William.