Interventions (2/8)
Title: Interventions
Pairing: Simm!Master/Ten!Doctor, Jack/Ianto
Author: Buttercup
Contact: Buttercupgaud@aol.com
Rating: Let’s say R to be safe, but might be PG-13
Warnings: None really. No spoilers for season 2 of TW, either.
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, they belong to Russel T and the beeb.
Summery: The Doctor wakes up with a headache, which quickly becomes everyone at TW’s too. Doctor Who/Torchwood crossover.
Thanks: Thanks to the wonderful Amy for beta reading this and being so encouraging.
Part One.
PART TWO
Ianto opened his eyes. Jack was smiling down at him, which was nice. Owen was swearing loudly somewhere to his left, which wasn’t. “What happened?”
“Thought you’d managed to get yourself killed for a moment there.” Jack’s tone was a little scolding, but mostly relieved.
“Sorry, about that, sir.” Ianto tried pushed himself up, but Jack’s hand pressed him back down.
“Sir, today, is it?” he asked, smiling.
“You’ve got your coat on.” Ianto pointed out. “Is the world about to end?”
Jack chuckled. “Not in the next few minutes, I don’t think. I was about to go check out the bay, see if there’s anything out there our scanners aren’t picking up.”
“What the fuck happened?” That was Owen, and Ianto couldn't help but grin.
Jack looked over at him. “We’re working on that. All we know for sure is that the Doctor’s been taken and there was an ignition of Rift particles which is what knocked you two out.”
“Why didn’t the whole place go up?” Ianto asked, feeling slightly queasy at the thought.
“The Hub’s dampening field kicked in.” Jack stood up and walked away from the sofa.
Ianto blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his head before swinging his legs over the side of the sofa and sitting up. “Do we know who or what has taken him?” he asked.
“No, we don’t know much of anything yet,” Gwen said.
Owen muttered that this was 'case, bloody, usual'. But everyone ignored him.
As Jack left with Gwen to go and do a sweep of the bay, Ianto was left to think about the last couple of days. The Doctor had been… interesting. The way he’d ordered Jack around had grated a little, but Jack’s obvious pleasure at having him there took the edge off it. The Doctor had talked more and faster than anyone Ianto had ever met. But his energy was infectious. The death of the Lucy Saxon had clearly meant more to Jack and the Doctor than it had to the rest of them, but that was fine. Jack rarely shared more than he had to, and the Doctor was there to help.
As he watched Jack leave, he could see the tension in his body. He was clearly worried, and from the little he knew about the Doctor, trouble probably wasn’t far behind. Canary Wharf flashed into his mind, with all the accompanying screaming and blood and pain. Jack had said time and again that it wasn’t the Doctor’s fault, that he’d lost someone that day too. Not that Ianto needed telling. It wasn’t the Doctor’s fault. It was Torchwood One’s. Playing with technology they couldn’t hope to understand. No, Ianto knew all about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Doctor hadn’t killed Lisa. But, where ever he went, death followed closely behind. It had nearly been him and Owen today. Who knew who it might be tomorrow? Ianto wanted to point all this out, but he knew Jack wouldn’t listen. No, they’d have to figure out who was behind this, and hopefully together they could limit the carnage that the Doctor left in his wake.
******
Very cautiously the Doctor opened his eyes. The Master’s mind was still there, complete with drumming, but it was blank. Clearly he was still unconscious. Not surprising, really, that this was harder on him than the Doctor; he had been dead nearly all day, after all. So, what to do? They weren’t prepared for an entrenchment. In fact, given how mentally unstable the Master was, and that the Doctor’s mind could be little more together these days, the whole situation was highly volatile. Still, at least the Master couldn’t kill him.
The Doctor looked over at the Master’s sleeping form, not sure how he felt about the fact he was still the same regeneration he’d been Saxon in. This particular regeneration had seemed more insane than the others. But, he was not one to talk.
They were both in danger, not just from whoever had trapped them here, but from each other too. He couldn't afford to let the Master in. The Doctor couldn’t think of anything more dangerous than giving the Master a foot-hold in his mind. Together they’d be unstoppable, and if he let his mind be corrupted…
“Oh,” he breathed. “Yes, very clever. Bringing him back from death slowly, entrenching us so soon. Send us both crazy, all the more easy to control.” He scrambled to his feet. “Stupid, stupid. No idea what you’re messing with. Shouldn’t play with fire, no … no.” He felt around the walls, with more purpose this time. “Where are you? Come on, I know you’re there.”
Then he felt it. A slight tugging in the back of his mind. The empty space beginning to fill. He braced himself; he was more prepared this time and he tried to erect some defences. But tiny snippets floated through. The Master dancing with Lucy under an endless, starless sky. Jack screaming and dying. Joy as the Doctor knelt before him. He tried to stop them coming through, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough, whatever they’d been doing to him had weakened him both physically and mentally. More and more feelings and memories bombarded him. The war, the many, many failed plans, fear, anger, hatred and with it, driving it forward, the drums. Louder and louder until it felt like his head was going to split right open. He was on his knees, trying in vain to block it out.
Then it was subsiding, the flood was being pulled back and he could stand. He looked over at the Master who was slumped forward, hands over his ears, eyes screwed shut. The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but the Master held up a hand. It was shaking with the effort of keeping the link between them partially closed. The Doctor’s head was still throbbing in agony, and the Master looked pale and sweaty.
“Don’t say a word,” he breathed, “if you speak I won’t be able to close them. The drums are worse with you in here. Like they’ve been doubled. You’d think they’d be halved, twice the space to fill, but no, the echo of them.”
The Doctor made his shaky way over to the Master. “Don’t, you’re hurting yourself, you’re not strong enough.”
The Master opened bleary, red-rimmed eyes to glare at him. “I can do anything,” he hissed, even as he slumped back down onto the bed, pressing his forehead against the wall.
The Doctor was so shocked by the echoing of his words from the Titanic that he was rendered speechless. Instead he reached out a hand, hoping to offer comfort. But even as it made contact, the shock of feeling from both his own hand, and the reflected feeling from the Master’s arm, made them both cry out. “Sorry,” the Doctor gasped.
There was no reply. The Master had gone very still, as though trying to keep himself from flying apart. The Doctor was beginning to panic now. They could both die. Or worse, the Master could, and it would be his fault. Again.
No, not now.
With the last of his strength he plunged forward into the awaiting darkness.
****
When he woke, his mind was a little quieter. The drums were still pounding and simply everything hurt, but the Master’s head was quiet. Well, this had to stop. Now. He tried to stand but in the end had to settle for crawling back to the wall. Slumped against it and tried to quieten his mind. Order his thoughts. Generally tidy up. He had guests now. The Master had tried to help. He’d tried to hold back his thoughts. The Doctor knew that this hadn’t been for his benefit, the Master had never liked the idea that someone might actually understand him. No, it had been a defensive gesture. But the Doctor was oddly touched by it anyway. He felt he owed the Master something, at least the same effort that he had put into making their link manageable.
Next, he reached out with his mind. There had to be some way they were monitoring them, hoping to find a way that they could be controlled. Which meant it might well be a telepathic link. Once he’d found it he could set out trying to access it. They might even be using whatever it was that had brought him and the Master into this cell. What went one way, could go the other. With his eyes closed and mind relaxed, the drums seemed almost deafeningly loud. Was this really how the Master felt all the time? No wonder he was always planning, anything to take his mind off it. But, no, the time for excuses was gone. The Master had always enjoyed others’ pain, just as the Doctor had enjoyed their pleasure. The drums might have sent him insane, but he had chosen the path of destruction. He could have created, helped. Like Professor Yana. That human incarnation had shown that the Master’s evil was a choice. The knowledge hurt more than the Doctor thought it would, but there it was anyway. And he had forgiven him. He still did. They only had each other now. Best make the best of it they could. Or he could.
“Ah,” the Doctor opened his eyes. “There you are.” The link from whoever had taken them both and the room appeared as a tiny string of silver light from the top corner of the room. It was very clear now, it was just a way of looking at it. Now if he could just lock them both into its frequency then they might be able to move along it.
****
The drums began to crash so loudly that it felt as though the room should be shaking.
“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, trying to sound casual and missing by several miles.
“As are you,” the Master was already panting.
“Perhaps if we coordinate our efforts to control the link?” he suggested. His whole body ached with the desire to sleep, but he had to find a way out. To help them both.
“What? Try to think as one? Be as one? I don’t think reciting wedding vows will be any help.” the Master glared at the Doctor. “If that were possible, then I doubt we’d have spent hundreds of years battling.”
“Or if it weren’t we wouldn’t have,” the Doctor said, struggling towards the bed.
“Oh, shut up,” the Master snapped.
“You shut up.” The bed seemed so far away, and the edges of his vision were blurred. This was not good.
“How very cutting,” the Master seemed to be finding it hard to breathe. “I think you’re losing your touch. Or is the lack of your usual worshipful audience putting you off?”
“You’re not helping,” the Doctor gritted his teeth, he was near the bed now. “Do you think there’s something wrong with the entrenchment, or the way they’ve resurrected you?”
“How should I know?” The Master was gripping the thin sheets so hard his knuckles were turning white.
The Doctor felt his own fingers begin to cramp and tried to flex them. Finally at the bed, he slumped forward, resting his head against the coarse material and tried to get his breath back. “Can’t you tell?”
“Can’t you?” The Master groaned and went very still. “I suppose whoever these idiots are, they don’t know much about Time Lord physiology. Keeping newly entrenched Time Lords within a hundred miles or each other is madness.”
“I rather think that’s the point.”
“Trying to send us mad?” The Master laughed. “Too late!”
The Doctor was trying very hard not to let the pain overwhelm him. “So it’s our close proximity?”
“Would be my guess.”
“We need to get out of here.” There was no answer, and the sudden quiet in his head was both a huge relief and utterly terrifying. But, no, the Master wasn’t dead. Not yet.
*****
This time the link was little dampened. The Doctor was thrilled. He’d managed to find a way to control the entrenchment. But when the Master’s eyes opened he knew he was wrong. It was the Master who was weakening. “You remember our first meeting?”
The Doctor shook his head.
“Liar,” the Master’s eyes were closed. “So much potential. All wasted. We could have ruled the universe.”
“I know,” the Doctor whispered.
“We would have been magnificent.”
“Yes.”
*****
“What do you miss most?” the Doctor asked, anything to try and distract them from the drums.
“About Gallifrey?” the Master looked deathly pale against the white of the sheets. “Nothing.”
“I know you’re lying, remember?” the Doctor said slowly.
“Then why don’t you just find out instead of asking?” the Master made a bold attempt to sound contemptuous, and the Doctor admired the sheer force of will.
“Hurts too much to concentrate.” No point in lying. Which shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was.
“Feeling the pressure, Doctor? Here I thought you could take anything, getting weak in your old age?” The Doctor didn’t reply. “The way the trees were in winter: cold and deadly.”
“I miss…”
“Yes, I know. Everything. It’s pathetic. And yet you couldn’t wait to leave. Neither of us could.” The Master had taken to lying unnaturally still. The Doctor hated it.
“I know!” he hadn’t expected to raise his voice, and the sound was painful. They both gasped. “Sorry.”
“If there was one thing that you could have killed when you had the chance?” the Master smiled, although it looked odd, like there was no pleasure left.
****
“It shouldn’t hurt this much. I’ve never heard of this happening, even when the proper training wasn’t carried out.” The Doctor shoved at the link. He’d been trying and trying to work out how to reverse the link with the outside world and he couldn’t do it and he knew if he didn’t manage it soon, then he wouldn’t have the energy to do anything about it.
“Have you ever heard of one being done against both participants’ will?” the Master asked pointedly.
“No,” the Doctor fidgeted, “although they weren’t what you’d call my field of expertise.”
The Master chuckled. “It all seemed too boring and pointless, didn’t it? Such a wide universe, why bother learning about home?”
This link was creating an intimacy that the Doctor could barely have let himself wish for and he couldn’t enjoy it. Could barely notice it was happening, apart from in a very peripheral way. Everything was peripheral now, apart from the pain and trying to force the link the other way. This was utterly unfair, but that wasn’t really registering, and even if it had the Doctor would have expected nothing less.
“I wish I had, maybe then I could have-”
The Master actually looked at him, a mocking smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “Oh, Doctor, ever the conceited fool. No one could have stopped the war. If I couldn’t find a way… No, there was no choice and you know that as well as I do.”
The tears were painful as they ran down the Doctor’s cheeks. Stupid, so stupid.
*****
“And now I’m going to die in a tiny cell, with your pity all over me. It’s disgusting.” The Master seemed to muster up all his distain and glared at the Doctor for a moment before closing his eyes again.
“You’re not going to die,” the Doctor said slowly. Firmly. Not just to the Master but to the universe at large.
“No, we both are, me first, I should imagine, then you.” They were quiet for a long time. “Perhaps we should consummate our marriage before we die. What do you say, Doctor? One last conjugal visit before death?”
“You nearly passed out when I put my hand on your arm, I don’t see us being able to ‘consummate’ anything.” The Doctor realised that he might be blushing, or maybe it was the Master. Hard to say.
“But what a way to go!” the Master managed a weak chuckle. “And as we climax our heads would explode! What do you say, Doctor, last wish of the condemned man? I know you enjoyed our little kiss, I felt it, remember?”
“If you can manage to even sit up, I’ll think about it.” The Master didn’t move and the Doctor tried not to actually feel the disappointment he knew was forming and concentrated on the relief instead. He smiled suddenly. “This is like old times, isn’t it? Working together again? Remember that? Back before the war?”
There was no answer. The Doctor shifted uneasily against the wall.
“If I’d have asked you to stay with me back then…” the Master’s voice held a note of challenge.
“You did and I-”
“No,” the Master shook his head. “I mean, just us, no plans, no helping lost puppies. Just us, a TARDIS and the universe.”
The Doctor stayed very still. Not daring to move in case he’d misheard. His hearts were beating fast enough that he was sure the Master must be able to hear them, even over the drums. “I’d have said no.”
The Master grinned. “Of course you would. As would I, but not before I tried to kill you.” He paused for a moment. “Seems stupid, now, doesn’t it? All that wasted time. But what do you do when you meet your destiny as a child?”
The Doctor’s eyes were misty. He wanted to touch the Master, tell him to stop talking, because this was starting to sound like a goodbye.
No.
No.
He was stopping this now. Now.
He pushed hard. Harder than he thought possible at the link, and finally, finally, it gave way. “Ah,” he panted, “I found a way out.”
The Master chuckled softly, shook his head. “Then let’s go,” he said. Cearly thinking the Doctor had finally lost his mind.
“Not ‘us’, just you.” And he shoved at the link with everything he had left in him. The bed was suddenly empty. The Doctor grinned before collapsing forward.
***********
The Master’s eyes burnt with white light. As it began to fade, a large room came into focus. As did the five guns all pointed directly at him.
“Jack!” He smiled broadly. “How wonderful to see you again!”
Then, just as the ground was rushing up to meet him, everything went dark.
TBC....
Pairing: Simm!Master/Ten!Doctor, Jack/Ianto
Author: Buttercup
Contact: Buttercupgaud@aol.com
Rating: Let’s say R to be safe, but might be PG-13
Warnings: None really. No spoilers for season 2 of TW, either.
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, they belong to Russel T and the beeb.
Summery: The Doctor wakes up with a headache, which quickly becomes everyone at TW’s too. Doctor Who/Torchwood crossover.
Thanks: Thanks to the wonderful Amy for beta reading this and being so encouraging.
Part One.
PART TWO
Ianto opened his eyes. Jack was smiling down at him, which was nice. Owen was swearing loudly somewhere to his left, which wasn’t. “What happened?”
“Thought you’d managed to get yourself killed for a moment there.” Jack’s tone was a little scolding, but mostly relieved.
“Sorry, about that, sir.” Ianto tried pushed himself up, but Jack’s hand pressed him back down.
“Sir, today, is it?” he asked, smiling.
“You’ve got your coat on.” Ianto pointed out. “Is the world about to end?”
Jack chuckled. “Not in the next few minutes, I don’t think. I was about to go check out the bay, see if there’s anything out there our scanners aren’t picking up.”
“What the fuck happened?” That was Owen, and Ianto couldn't help but grin.
Jack looked over at him. “We’re working on that. All we know for sure is that the Doctor’s been taken and there was an ignition of Rift particles which is what knocked you two out.”
“Why didn’t the whole place go up?” Ianto asked, feeling slightly queasy at the thought.
“The Hub’s dampening field kicked in.” Jack stood up and walked away from the sofa.
Ianto blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his head before swinging his legs over the side of the sofa and sitting up. “Do we know who or what has taken him?” he asked.
“No, we don’t know much of anything yet,” Gwen said.
Owen muttered that this was 'case, bloody, usual'. But everyone ignored him.
As Jack left with Gwen to go and do a sweep of the bay, Ianto was left to think about the last couple of days. The Doctor had been… interesting. The way he’d ordered Jack around had grated a little, but Jack’s obvious pleasure at having him there took the edge off it. The Doctor had talked more and faster than anyone Ianto had ever met. But his energy was infectious. The death of the Lucy Saxon had clearly meant more to Jack and the Doctor than it had to the rest of them, but that was fine. Jack rarely shared more than he had to, and the Doctor was there to help.
As he watched Jack leave, he could see the tension in his body. He was clearly worried, and from the little he knew about the Doctor, trouble probably wasn’t far behind. Canary Wharf flashed into his mind, with all the accompanying screaming and blood and pain. Jack had said time and again that it wasn’t the Doctor’s fault, that he’d lost someone that day too. Not that Ianto needed telling. It wasn’t the Doctor’s fault. It was Torchwood One’s. Playing with technology they couldn’t hope to understand. No, Ianto knew all about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Doctor hadn’t killed Lisa. But, where ever he went, death followed closely behind. It had nearly been him and Owen today. Who knew who it might be tomorrow? Ianto wanted to point all this out, but he knew Jack wouldn’t listen. No, they’d have to figure out who was behind this, and hopefully together they could limit the carnage that the Doctor left in his wake.
******
Very cautiously the Doctor opened his eyes. The Master’s mind was still there, complete with drumming, but it was blank. Clearly he was still unconscious. Not surprising, really, that this was harder on him than the Doctor; he had been dead nearly all day, after all. So, what to do? They weren’t prepared for an entrenchment. In fact, given how mentally unstable the Master was, and that the Doctor’s mind could be little more together these days, the whole situation was highly volatile. Still, at least the Master couldn’t kill him.
The Doctor looked over at the Master’s sleeping form, not sure how he felt about the fact he was still the same regeneration he’d been Saxon in. This particular regeneration had seemed more insane than the others. But, he was not one to talk.
They were both in danger, not just from whoever had trapped them here, but from each other too. He couldn't afford to let the Master in. The Doctor couldn’t think of anything more dangerous than giving the Master a foot-hold in his mind. Together they’d be unstoppable, and if he let his mind be corrupted…
“Oh,” he breathed. “Yes, very clever. Bringing him back from death slowly, entrenching us so soon. Send us both crazy, all the more easy to control.” He scrambled to his feet. “Stupid, stupid. No idea what you’re messing with. Shouldn’t play with fire, no … no.” He felt around the walls, with more purpose this time. “Where are you? Come on, I know you’re there.”
Then he felt it. A slight tugging in the back of his mind. The empty space beginning to fill. He braced himself; he was more prepared this time and he tried to erect some defences. But tiny snippets floated through. The Master dancing with Lucy under an endless, starless sky. Jack screaming and dying. Joy as the Doctor knelt before him. He tried to stop them coming through, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough, whatever they’d been doing to him had weakened him both physically and mentally. More and more feelings and memories bombarded him. The war, the many, many failed plans, fear, anger, hatred and with it, driving it forward, the drums. Louder and louder until it felt like his head was going to split right open. He was on his knees, trying in vain to block it out.
Then it was subsiding, the flood was being pulled back and he could stand. He looked over at the Master who was slumped forward, hands over his ears, eyes screwed shut. The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but the Master held up a hand. It was shaking with the effort of keeping the link between them partially closed. The Doctor’s head was still throbbing in agony, and the Master looked pale and sweaty.
“Don’t say a word,” he breathed, “if you speak I won’t be able to close them. The drums are worse with you in here. Like they’ve been doubled. You’d think they’d be halved, twice the space to fill, but no, the echo of them.”
The Doctor made his shaky way over to the Master. “Don’t, you’re hurting yourself, you’re not strong enough.”
The Master opened bleary, red-rimmed eyes to glare at him. “I can do anything,” he hissed, even as he slumped back down onto the bed, pressing his forehead against the wall.
The Doctor was so shocked by the echoing of his words from the Titanic that he was rendered speechless. Instead he reached out a hand, hoping to offer comfort. But even as it made contact, the shock of feeling from both his own hand, and the reflected feeling from the Master’s arm, made them both cry out. “Sorry,” the Doctor gasped.
There was no reply. The Master had gone very still, as though trying to keep himself from flying apart. The Doctor was beginning to panic now. They could both die. Or worse, the Master could, and it would be his fault. Again.
No, not now.
With the last of his strength he plunged forward into the awaiting darkness.
****
When he woke, his mind was a little quieter. The drums were still pounding and simply everything hurt, but the Master’s head was quiet. Well, this had to stop. Now. He tried to stand but in the end had to settle for crawling back to the wall. Slumped against it and tried to quieten his mind. Order his thoughts. Generally tidy up. He had guests now. The Master had tried to help. He’d tried to hold back his thoughts. The Doctor knew that this hadn’t been for his benefit, the Master had never liked the idea that someone might actually understand him. No, it had been a defensive gesture. But the Doctor was oddly touched by it anyway. He felt he owed the Master something, at least the same effort that he had put into making their link manageable.
Next, he reached out with his mind. There had to be some way they were monitoring them, hoping to find a way that they could be controlled. Which meant it might well be a telepathic link. Once he’d found it he could set out trying to access it. They might even be using whatever it was that had brought him and the Master into this cell. What went one way, could go the other. With his eyes closed and mind relaxed, the drums seemed almost deafeningly loud. Was this really how the Master felt all the time? No wonder he was always planning, anything to take his mind off it. But, no, the time for excuses was gone. The Master had always enjoyed others’ pain, just as the Doctor had enjoyed their pleasure. The drums might have sent him insane, but he had chosen the path of destruction. He could have created, helped. Like Professor Yana. That human incarnation had shown that the Master’s evil was a choice. The knowledge hurt more than the Doctor thought it would, but there it was anyway. And he had forgiven him. He still did. They only had each other now. Best make the best of it they could. Or he could.
“Ah,” the Doctor opened his eyes. “There you are.” The link from whoever had taken them both and the room appeared as a tiny string of silver light from the top corner of the room. It was very clear now, it was just a way of looking at it. Now if he could just lock them both into its frequency then they might be able to move along it.
****
The drums began to crash so loudly that it felt as though the room should be shaking.
“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, trying to sound casual and missing by several miles.
“As are you,” the Master was already panting.
“Perhaps if we coordinate our efforts to control the link?” he suggested. His whole body ached with the desire to sleep, but he had to find a way out. To help them both.
“What? Try to think as one? Be as one? I don’t think reciting wedding vows will be any help.” the Master glared at the Doctor. “If that were possible, then I doubt we’d have spent hundreds of years battling.”
“Or if it weren’t we wouldn’t have,” the Doctor said, struggling towards the bed.
“Oh, shut up,” the Master snapped.
“You shut up.” The bed seemed so far away, and the edges of his vision were blurred. This was not good.
“How very cutting,” the Master seemed to be finding it hard to breathe. “I think you’re losing your touch. Or is the lack of your usual worshipful audience putting you off?”
“You’re not helping,” the Doctor gritted his teeth, he was near the bed now. “Do you think there’s something wrong with the entrenchment, or the way they’ve resurrected you?”
“How should I know?” The Master was gripping the thin sheets so hard his knuckles were turning white.
The Doctor felt his own fingers begin to cramp and tried to flex them. Finally at the bed, he slumped forward, resting his head against the coarse material and tried to get his breath back. “Can’t you tell?”
“Can’t you?” The Master groaned and went very still. “I suppose whoever these idiots are, they don’t know much about Time Lord physiology. Keeping newly entrenched Time Lords within a hundred miles or each other is madness.”
“I rather think that’s the point.”
“Trying to send us mad?” The Master laughed. “Too late!”
The Doctor was trying very hard not to let the pain overwhelm him. “So it’s our close proximity?”
“Would be my guess.”
“We need to get out of here.” There was no answer, and the sudden quiet in his head was both a huge relief and utterly terrifying. But, no, the Master wasn’t dead. Not yet.
*****
This time the link was little dampened. The Doctor was thrilled. He’d managed to find a way to control the entrenchment. But when the Master’s eyes opened he knew he was wrong. It was the Master who was weakening. “You remember our first meeting?”
The Doctor shook his head.
“Liar,” the Master’s eyes were closed. “So much potential. All wasted. We could have ruled the universe.”
“I know,” the Doctor whispered.
“We would have been magnificent.”
“Yes.”
*****
“What do you miss most?” the Doctor asked, anything to try and distract them from the drums.
“About Gallifrey?” the Master looked deathly pale against the white of the sheets. “Nothing.”
“I know you’re lying, remember?” the Doctor said slowly.
“Then why don’t you just find out instead of asking?” the Master made a bold attempt to sound contemptuous, and the Doctor admired the sheer force of will.
“Hurts too much to concentrate.” No point in lying. Which shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was.
“Feeling the pressure, Doctor? Here I thought you could take anything, getting weak in your old age?” The Doctor didn’t reply. “The way the trees were in winter: cold and deadly.”
“I miss…”
“Yes, I know. Everything. It’s pathetic. And yet you couldn’t wait to leave. Neither of us could.” The Master had taken to lying unnaturally still. The Doctor hated it.
“I know!” he hadn’t expected to raise his voice, and the sound was painful. They both gasped. “Sorry.”
“If there was one thing that you could have killed when you had the chance?” the Master smiled, although it looked odd, like there was no pleasure left.
****
“It shouldn’t hurt this much. I’ve never heard of this happening, even when the proper training wasn’t carried out.” The Doctor shoved at the link. He’d been trying and trying to work out how to reverse the link with the outside world and he couldn’t do it and he knew if he didn’t manage it soon, then he wouldn’t have the energy to do anything about it.
“Have you ever heard of one being done against both participants’ will?” the Master asked pointedly.
“No,” the Doctor fidgeted, “although they weren’t what you’d call my field of expertise.”
The Master chuckled. “It all seemed too boring and pointless, didn’t it? Such a wide universe, why bother learning about home?”
This link was creating an intimacy that the Doctor could barely have let himself wish for and he couldn’t enjoy it. Could barely notice it was happening, apart from in a very peripheral way. Everything was peripheral now, apart from the pain and trying to force the link the other way. This was utterly unfair, but that wasn’t really registering, and even if it had the Doctor would have expected nothing less.
“I wish I had, maybe then I could have-”
The Master actually looked at him, a mocking smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “Oh, Doctor, ever the conceited fool. No one could have stopped the war. If I couldn’t find a way… No, there was no choice and you know that as well as I do.”
The tears were painful as they ran down the Doctor’s cheeks. Stupid, so stupid.
*****
“And now I’m going to die in a tiny cell, with your pity all over me. It’s disgusting.” The Master seemed to muster up all his distain and glared at the Doctor for a moment before closing his eyes again.
“You’re not going to die,” the Doctor said slowly. Firmly. Not just to the Master but to the universe at large.
“No, we both are, me first, I should imagine, then you.” They were quiet for a long time. “Perhaps we should consummate our marriage before we die. What do you say, Doctor? One last conjugal visit before death?”
“You nearly passed out when I put my hand on your arm, I don’t see us being able to ‘consummate’ anything.” The Doctor realised that he might be blushing, or maybe it was the Master. Hard to say.
“But what a way to go!” the Master managed a weak chuckle. “And as we climax our heads would explode! What do you say, Doctor, last wish of the condemned man? I know you enjoyed our little kiss, I felt it, remember?”
“If you can manage to even sit up, I’ll think about it.” The Master didn’t move and the Doctor tried not to actually feel the disappointment he knew was forming and concentrated on the relief instead. He smiled suddenly. “This is like old times, isn’t it? Working together again? Remember that? Back before the war?”
There was no answer. The Doctor shifted uneasily against the wall.
“If I’d have asked you to stay with me back then…” the Master’s voice held a note of challenge.
“You did and I-”
“No,” the Master shook his head. “I mean, just us, no plans, no helping lost puppies. Just us, a TARDIS and the universe.”
The Doctor stayed very still. Not daring to move in case he’d misheard. His hearts were beating fast enough that he was sure the Master must be able to hear them, even over the drums. “I’d have said no.”
The Master grinned. “Of course you would. As would I, but not before I tried to kill you.” He paused for a moment. “Seems stupid, now, doesn’t it? All that wasted time. But what do you do when you meet your destiny as a child?”
The Doctor’s eyes were misty. He wanted to touch the Master, tell him to stop talking, because this was starting to sound like a goodbye.
No.
No.
He was stopping this now. Now.
He pushed hard. Harder than he thought possible at the link, and finally, finally, it gave way. “Ah,” he panted, “I found a way out.”
The Master chuckled softly, shook his head. “Then let’s go,” he said. Cearly thinking the Doctor had finally lost his mind.
“Not ‘us’, just you.” And he shoved at the link with everything he had left in him. The bed was suddenly empty. The Doctor grinned before collapsing forward.
***********
The Master’s eyes burnt with white light. As it began to fade, a large room came into focus. As did the five guns all pointed directly at him.
“Jack!” He smiled broadly. “How wonderful to see you again!”
Then, just as the ground was rushing up to meet him, everything went dark.
TBC....