And it was the Doctor's turn to gloat over how much progress he's made with his universe, wasn't it? Not that the Master honestly cared about it.
Since he'd left the Doctor alone to do what he wished, he hadn't moved. He hadn't eaten, slept or even done something so simple as clean himself up. The most movement he'd given would be right then and looking up toward the nearest camera.
Only a shift of his gaze, nothing more and he didn't reply to him or move to obey the instruction. Why should he?
"You haven't died have you?" he asked. He could see that his vitals were still fairly strong on the monitor, but if he wasn't going to move, this wasn't going to work. He needed to do what he wanted.
An annoying buzz in the back of his mind wanted him to go and check on the Master. Check on him, give him water, clean him up. He wondered if that would be possible without incurring an attack, and then wondered why he cared so much.
If he'd had the energy to laugh, he would have, as it was his head simply lolled back, resting against the wall. He blinked once at the camera.
Then he looked away after deeming the Doctor unworthy of the extra effort.
The planet did offer the chance for possible escape and if prodded enough he might grudgingly decide to be a silent witness to his new design for things to come. Perhaps after a few moments of enduring him to wonder and wait, he would play along with his demands.
He doubted his captor enjoyed this and that in itself was laughable as he'd subjected the Master to the very same thing during the Year. Ignored him, day in and day out, barely speaking a word to him.
Panic shot through him at the non-response. Before he could properly register what he'd done, he'd stood and headed for the adjoining room, where he grabbed a sponge and some water.
He didn't care. He reminded himself of this firmly. He didn't care about the Master, he just wanted him in his universe. That wouldn't work if he was doing...this.
He appeared in the hallway with the bowl of water and the sponge. He didn't speak, he just stared for a long moment.
The Master simply waited, the Doctor would either come and check on him or he wouldn't.
Either way it still remained to be seen as to whether he would pretend to humor him in the hope of a possible escape or if he would simply sit there and be an annoyance.
Again, he looked to where the Doctor had appeared in the hall, but made no other move to do, well, anything.
Stupid stupid stupid. This was stupid. Caring was stupid. It was juvenile to think this way, but he did.
He stepped towards the Master and dipped the sponge into the water. Once it swelled and soaked enough up, he knelt near him and pressed it to his forehead. It wasn't a gentle touch, he didn't know gentle touches anymore, but he dabbed at his skin with a look that was very nearly but not quite worry.
The sigh caught his attention more than anything previously and as he knelt down he watched him. The look didn't fit into this new side of the Doctor and he wondered where it had fallen away from.
It may not have been gentle but it was welcome, despite his attempts to distance himself from the Doctor and it took a lot not to give into it. He did think about it very briefly but he pushed the thought out of his mind, angry at it having ever been there to begin with.
"You're being an idiot," he said, finally, continuing to clean his skin. "Not eating, drinking, bathing. You're starting to make my ship look like the sidewalks of Angri 7."
He didn't care. He didn't care, but the touch he used to clean the Master's face and, slowly, his neck, was careful and precise.
"You need to change," he said. "Get you something to eat."
He dipped the sponge back into the bowl to rehydrate it and then pressed it against the Master's lips. He didn't care. There wasn't a monster curling up inside of his stomach, twisted and terrified by how the Master wasn't reacting.
"You can always try to escape," he offered. "I won't even post a guard with you so you can try."
"I want you to be part of this, not run away from it," he explained, pulling the sponge away and dipping it back in the water. He brought it back to the Master's lips.
"It's interesting how things turn around in such a short amount of time, hm?" he asked, though he didn't expect a response. He took more water when the sponge was brought back to his lips.
"Oh, you aren't? Well now that just make things boring."
"We could work together," he said. "You and me against all of time and space. We'd win, you know."
He needed to clean all of the Master, and that wouldn't work here. He wondered if he could pick him up, and wondered if the Master would even allow that.
He moved stray lock of the Master's hair aside. The Doctor would be this gentle. He doesn't really know how to be.
The Master would prefer to bathe himself and walk instead of being carried but that also depended on how weak he actually was. He had been sitting there for a while and his body already protested the mere thought of moving and actually functioning properly.
His eyes flicked to the hand that touched his hair. "Hoping to wear me down by inconsistent repetition?"
"It works for water," he says. "Patiently wearing down the mountainsides. But you're no mountain, Master. You're like me. If we wear at each other long enough, we'll become each other."
This was, in a way, an explanation for why he was the way he was.
He reached over and began undoing the buttons on his jacket.
"I'll change you," he said. "Something clean, eh?"
Since he'd left the Doctor alone to do what he wished, he hadn't moved. He hadn't eaten, slept or even done something so simple as clean himself up. The most movement he'd given would be right then and looking up toward the nearest camera.
Only a shift of his gaze, nothing more and he didn't reply to him or move to obey the instruction. Why should he?
Reply
An annoying buzz in the back of his mind wanted him to go and check on the Master. Check on him, give him water, clean him up. He wondered if that would be possible without incurring an attack, and then wondered why he cared so much.
Reply
Then he looked away after deeming the Doctor unworthy of the extra effort.
The planet did offer the chance for possible escape and if prodded enough he might grudgingly decide to be a silent witness to his new design for things to come. Perhaps after a few moments of enduring him to wonder and wait, he would play along with his demands.
He doubted his captor enjoyed this and that in itself was laughable as he'd subjected the Master to the very same thing during the Year. Ignored him, day in and day out, barely speaking a word to him.
Reply
He didn't care. He reminded himself of this firmly. He didn't care about the Master, he just wanted him in his universe. That wouldn't work if he was doing...this.
He appeared in the hallway with the bowl of water and the sponge. He didn't speak, he just stared for a long moment.
Reply
Either way it still remained to be seen as to whether he would pretend to humor him in the hope of a possible escape or if he would simply sit there and be an annoyance.
Again, he looked to where the Doctor had appeared in the hall, but made no other move to do, well, anything.
Reply
Stupid stupid stupid. This was stupid. Caring was stupid. It was juvenile to think this way, but he did.
He stepped towards the Master and dipped the sponge into the water. Once it swelled and soaked enough up, he knelt near him and pressed it to his forehead. It wasn't a gentle touch, he didn't know gentle touches anymore, but he dabbed at his skin with a look that was very nearly but not quite worry.
Reply
It may not have been gentle but it was welcome, despite his attempts to distance himself from the Doctor and it took a lot not to give into it. He did think about it very briefly but he pushed the thought out of his mind, angry at it having ever been there to begin with.
He kept quiet.
Reply
He didn't care. He didn't care, but the touch he used to clean the Master's face and, slowly, his neck, was careful and precise.
"You need to change," he said. "Get you something to eat."
Reply
"And that's completely unacceptable," he murmured, licking at his dry lips and scrutinizing him carefully.
"Sorry to say I'm not in the mood for a field trip to see what you've done with the place, wherever it is."
Reply
"You can always try to escape," he offered. "I won't even post a guard with you so you can try."
Reply
But he took some of the offered water from the sponge briefly.
Reply
"I want you to see I'm not your enemy."
Reply
"Oh, you aren't? Well now that just make things boring."
Reply
He needed to clean all of the Master, and that wouldn't work here. He wondered if he could pick him up, and wondered if the Master would even allow that.
He moved stray lock of the Master's hair aside. The Doctor would be this gentle. He doesn't really know how to be.
Reply
The Master would prefer to bathe himself and walk instead of being carried but that also depended on how weak he actually was. He had been sitting there for a while and his body already protested the mere thought of moving and actually functioning properly.
His eyes flicked to the hand that touched his hair. "Hoping to wear me down by inconsistent repetition?"
Reply
This was, in a way, an explanation for why he was the way he was.
He reached over and began undoing the buttons on his jacket.
"I'll change you," he said. "Something clean, eh?"
Reply
Leave a comment