A/N: I have never, ever written Martha before this so I hope I did it well enough even if it's only a tiny part.

Martha walked next to Jack down the corridor. "You're certain it's him?" asked Jack, worry forming a hard lump in the pit of his stomach.

"Quite certain."

"And there's no sign of the Doctor?" He couldn't hide the worry in his tone.

( I'm damaged but somehow I've managed but I don't think I can find my way back home. )

"Look, I am doing the very best I can with what I have here. We can't just pop off to the local market and get you brand new parts, you know."

( In which the Master plays repairman. )

[A/N: I don't typically do sequels. In fact, most times, I refuse to cause it seems too limiting to the imagination and the route a piece of fiction can take. That being said, I'll point out this is my very first even in my own writing comm. I wasn't expecting it, but the idea took hold and well, a Universe for the Master without his Doctor is ( Read more... )

Warning: Dark. Character death.

A battlefield. A desolate wasteland of blood marred and muddy trenches that they've both stumbled through these long, lonely centuries. Time Lords can cheat death by regeneration and on more than one occasion he's sought to extend his own existence by stealing from another such as himself.

( Blood makes noise. )