"No. No, no, no, no..." The Doctor was just muttering the word over and over, holding the Master in his arms and refusing to believe any of this was happening. It couldn't. It couldn't be that he was alone again. So close, but he should have known, the Master had always been spiteful.
For all it mattered to him at the moment, no one else could have been here. Just him and the Master's lifeless body, already starting to cool. "No!"
There had to be something! Anything! His eyes had tears in them when he looked up, casting a wild look around the room. "Jack! Jack, come here. Come here right now."
Jack's heart felt heavy. For all that the Master had done to him in that year, for all that his muscles still ached, he couldn't help but feel bad for him. If only through the Doctor's sadness. He'd hung his head in reverence for a dead Time Lord, but frowned when he heard his name.
"What?"
He didn't have time to think, if the Doctor's desperate voice was anything to go by. He hurried over to his side and knelt down. "Doctor, he's gone. He's not coming back. I'm sorry."
The words were like yet another pang to his hearts and he might have told Jack to stop talking, but there was no time to waste. He felt Jack's presence more than he saw him, always so wrong, always a disturbance in the fabric of time. He reached out to him, cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. No other word for it, immediate and deep and desperate, more than anything else, desperate, as if he needed him to live, as if he wanted to get to his very essence.
His other arm was still wound tightly around the Master's body while he kissed Jack, eyes closed. He needed focus, there was no time to formulate a better plan. He couldn't lose him.
The Doctor had been working on the TARDIS without pause. Of course, she didn't technically take any damage after everything had been resolved, but it didn't feel that way to him. He kept cleaning every part of the console, mutter reassurances and compliments and all of that while trying to ignore the elephant, well, the Master in the room.
Finally he couldn't bear the tension anymore, waiting for him to wake up and not knowing if he would and dreading either outcome. Finally he made his way to Jack's room, still wearing his glasses. He didn't bother knocking, because some lessons he'd never learn, but instead walked right in.
The time in the TARDIS with the Doctor had been.. interesting. Mostly a lot of quiet tension and listening to the Doctor mutter in between demanding that Jack hand him something or do something for him. Most everything seemed to be back to normal now, so Jack spent a lot of his time in the pool and reading. He'd kill for a shooting range, but something about the Doctor not believing in guns or some such nonsense. Blah, blah.
When the Doctor decided to pay Jack a visit, he had actually just finished a shower and was toweling off his hair, his body already mostly dry. The sudden appearance of him caused him to jump and only look a little sheepish, if only for the Doctor's sake. Any decency or shame he had died ages ago.
"Well..." Problem wasn't quite what he'd call that. He wondered if Jack ever bothered dressing when he wasn't in his immediate vicinity but decided that it was better for his peace of mind if he didn't find out the answer to that question. The Doctor stepped further into the room, very firmly focusing his eyes on Jack's face and absolutely nowhere else.
...that man had like three times this generation's muscle mass, how was that fair?
"No. No problem. I just..." He hadn't really thought of what to tell Jack, but he realized that for various reasons telling him that he simply couldn't stand the Master's quiet presence anymore wouldn't be the best idea. "Just checking up on you." He found a smile somewhere, after all he had experience in faking those. "Part of the service. I forgot my stewardess uniform."
Unpredictably, the first thing the Master heard was a very faint drumming, lulling him slowly back into consciousness and away from the comfortable dark he'd been enjoying for the past few days. His head was absolutely killing him, among other things, and his tired brain was trying desperately to work out everything it could before his eyes opened. Perhaps it wanted to prepare him for the shock of what he was going to see. Like the fact that despite his best efforts, he wasn't dead.
And all around him was the gentle hum of this decrypted old rust box of a TARDIS.
The Master jerked as his mind slowly woke up, hands straining against his cuffs. What was happening? This didn't make any sense. He was shot, he died. He definitely one hundred percent remembered dying. And he certainly didn't feel the very familiar pain of a gun shot wound when he was moving.
Hissing, the Master yanked harder against the cuffs, trying to force his hand through the loops. This was far from ideal.
The Doctor felt the Master's presence like a tingle at the back of his mind the moment he woke up and then the sound of his struggling a few seconds later brought certainty. He came out from under the TARDIS, his shirt stained from working on the console, but his smile was bright when he jumped to his feet and looked at the Master.
"You're awake!" Alive, he was alive. It had worked. The relief he felt was palpable. "Welcome back."
The Master's eyes widened with horror as it occurred to him just what was happening. Everything he didn't want was right there in front of him. On the TARDIS, with the Doctor and clearly a prisoner. The drums thudded in his head, making it hard to think as he renewed his struggle, no smile on his face as he tugged desperately, not caring if the cuffs were cutting into his wrists or not. This was a nightmare, an utter nightmare.
"I don't think you two can just keep pouting the whole time," the Doctor reasoned as he paused from licking the ice cream off the cone in his hand, "We have ice cream. It's very anti-pouting."
The kitchen should have had more than enough space for three people, but since they all came with a lot of tension of all kinds, it felt rather cramped. The Doctor did his best to ignore that, sitting in the chair, feet on the table, leaning back and mostly just paying attention to his ice cream instead of Jack or the Master. At least the ice cream didn't judge him. And it was delicious.
He turned the cone in his hand, tongue out so he could swirl it all up properly. Mhmm, banana.
"Five quid says we can." Despite Jack's pouting, he couldn't help but be completely transfixed by the display the Doctor was putting on. Was he even aware of what he was doing to him? Not fair. God, and the way his tongue worked the ice cream.. it gave Jack a shiver and a definite need to spend some time alone later.
Jack had to force himself to pay attention to his own ice cream, very deliberately trying not to be sexual with it at all. Though it was somewhat difficult. How did they come to the conclusion that this would be the best ice breaker? It wasn't, and Jack half felt like climbing onto the counters to get away from the Master.
"It's bad manners to have your feet on the table," the Master said bluntly, watching the Doctor eat the ice cream with a small frown because why would he do it in such an obscene manner... unless the idiot didn't realise. In which case, that was just funny and a little bit sad. Poor Bambi eyed Doctor and his idiotic naivety. The Master eyed his own for a moment before biting right into it.
Yes, biting. Maybe he could freeze himself to death. Or get an horrendous ice cream headache that would somehow remove him from this dull attempt at bonding. It was so obvious what the Doctor's intent was, he almost felt bad for him. Like this would ever work.
"He wants us to get on, probably," Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow at the Doctor. "Not working. Having this freak near me makes me want to retch up my ice cream."
The Doctor turned from the freezer, fresh ice cream in his hand, which should at least make some part of this pleasant. Although he was pretty determined not to bring up yesterday's events, the Master or anything else that could bring Jack back to pouting, so he was fairly confident.
Carrying his cone he headed to Jack's room, not knocking and simply walking right in. "Jack, do you have a moment?"
Jack hadn't been expecting a visitor at his door while he was laying in bed, trying to relax and take a nap. He hadn't been able to sleep, particularly because of his frustration with the Master and his own feelings about the Doctor plaguing his mind. In fact, the thoughts were so invasive that the moment the Doctor had picked to pay Jack a visit, his hands were beneath his sheets, vigorously stroking himself to try and relieve at least some of that tension.
And then the door opened, causing Jack to jump. Okay. So he'd been caught. Now what? He hadn't really had this problem since he was a boy, and yet he still felt somewhat embarrassed -- mostly for the Doctor. He sat up in a hurry, red in the face and staring very intently at the Doctor.
"Don't you knock?!" he cried. God dammit, and he'd been so close, too!
"Er." Not the most intelligent sound there, but what else was he supposed to say? He decided on silence in favor of licking around the cone before any of the melting ice cream could drip on his hand. Then the Doctor realized that staring at Jack was probably not helping matters, so he turned around. "I'll just... Erm. Just see myself out then, alright?"
He walked back out through the door, closing it behind himself and, with a heavy sigh, leaning back against it. Wait. "JUST SAY WHEN YOU'RE DONE!"
Sitting on the floor, one hand on his head, he groaned loudly and rubbed the back in a comforting manner. Oh Rassilon's rod, that really hurt. His brain was rolling around in his damn head, or so it felt like that anyway, he legitimately thought he could puke at any moment. Blinking a few times, he slowly looked up at the man in the room with him, a confused expression because he didn't know the face. Or even the clothes. All he knew was a familiar tingle that left a confused feeling in him.
"... Theta?" Koschei asked, a frown on his face as he let himself slump back downwards, having trouble getting his mind to engage properly. It was like someone had bruised the inside of his mind. "What happened? -- Did we die? I don't get it. My head is killing and--"
He stopped, staring for a moment as he took it all in properly. "You regenerated?!"
Had he just... The Doctor's eyes widened and he moved back until he hit the wall, staring at the Master with something akin to terror. He'd just called him Theta. Oh gods, what had he done? No, no, no... He tried to brace himself, but something about seeing Koschei's expression on the Master's face made that entirely impossible. He remembered the Master accusing him of wanting the past back and in a weird mix of horror and relief he realized that at least that wasn't true. This wasn't right and he knew it.
"...something went wrong. Ma..." He broke off and gave a quick shake of his head. "I'm sorry. I... I can fix it. Promise."
"What?!" It seemed like the only logical response to have because Theta was looking at him strange and the sheer terror in his eyes was disconcerting. What was this anyway? Where were they? Rubbing his eyes to try and clear them up, Koschei hauled himself to his feet, looking down at his body and the strange clothes he had on. And, hey, wait! What was up with his voice? Reaching up to touch his Adams apple, he frowned in the direction of Theta. "My voice is all funny, is it new? Oh, new voice! Does that mean I--"
There was a pause as he looked down at his new hands, older and stubber than his other pair. So they'd both regenerated? Dear lord, what had Theta done this time? Had he actually killed them? "You can't fix regeneration, dimwit. What did you do? You're all different. And so am I!"
Working with Koschei was strange, to say the least. Quite depressing a lot of the time. Sometimes he felt as if he was watching from the outside, not even really there, just that disconcerting experience of the Master not being the Master, of his friend coming back from a past that seemed to be so far behind him that it didn't even feel like part of himself anymore. It was however also incredibly invigorating, awakening feelings in his hearts that he had all but forgotten about. It was complicated and sometimes he found himself just leaning against a table in the lab, staring off at nothing or staring right at Koschei until he managed to snap himself out of it.
But even so, they worked together quite well. The Doctor had begun to understand just what Koschei was getting at and he was fairly certain that it would actually work. The faster the better, because no matter how torn he was on the subject on an emotional level, he definitely knew on an intellectual level that it should be resolved as fast as possible.
"Looking good, don't you think?" He swiped his finger along the phial he held, sticking it into his mouth for a taste. "I think this should work."
The Doctor was strange, that was certain. It wasn't anything specific, not really, just general things. Like the way he stared like a zombie at him sometimes, which he was pretty certain wasn't intended to be half as creepy as it actually was. Or the way he suddenly and inexplicably became sad and would randomly sulk. Honestly, Koschei was starting to see perhaps why he and the older Theta fell apart.
As he continued to fiddle around with the cables on his end of the device, he paused slightly and turned to the Doctor, a small look of achievement on his face. Okay, yes, Koschei did find the Doctor insane to a degree but he also did adore the praise he got from him. Even if it was all won with the most sober of looks.
"For the most part, yes," Koschei agreed as he offered out the circuit he'd finish with a raise of his eyebrow. "Lemme just fine tune your half."
Well, it was okay but this was his mind. He wanted it to be of the highest quality.
The TARDIS was a real bitch this morning. Yes, sure, she hated him but usually she at least let him get some kind of food. Something he could eat to prevent that unfortunate side effect of no food otherwise called 'death'. But today she was having none of it. The fridge was jammed, the toaster shocked him and he couldn't seem to open any cupboard.
He was currently grasping onto the handle of the fridge with one hand while the other tried to part the sides, a look of frustration on his face. Someone was still bitter over being a paradox machine.
"Open, you stupid old rust bucket," the Master hissed angrily, giving up with a sigh and childishly kicking the fridge in response. Not that it so much as dented it, all it did was hurt his foot. Wincing, he continued to glare, a vague sort of childish pout on his face. He was so telling the Doctor. "If you were mine, I'd sell you for scrap metal."
Jack had had a wonderful night. One of the best in his life, in fact, and he felt like he was floating. After so long of being pent-up and frustrated, he finally felt like he was able to relax a little and move about a little more freely.
He didn't know what the Master's problem was when Jack came to the kitchen dressed only in his trousers and set himself to making coffee for himself and the Doctor. The Master would have to get his own.
"You know, it usually responds to 'please'," he teased. "What's your problem today?"
Oh good, here was the dashing captain, invading his awful morning and somehow making it worse. There was nothing more annoying than the fact that he couldn't just kill the freak on sight any more, time was he could just liquidate him on the spot. Or pour boiling hot coffee down his face to wake him up in the morning. So much more fun than having to stand there and watch the TARDIS do things for him.
"My problem is here. She doesn't respond to please or anything, she's an outdated old piece of junk," the Master complained, sighing loudly as he spun around on his feet, leaning against the fridge with a critical frown on his face. "You're happy this morning."
Well, he didn't like that at all. And why was he making two coffees anyway? "Have a good wank last night or something?"
Waking up from death was always an alarming experience for Jack. Particularly in the instances he didn't know he had been dead in the first place. He gasped and his eyes shot open, filling his lungs with sweet, life-affirming air. Wherever he was, it wasn't comfortable, and it took a moment for his vision to really come back to him for him to recognise where he was. The control room. But why was he on the floor? Why couldn't he move his arms? How long had he been out? The only question he didn't have was who was responsible. The Doctor never would have done something like that. Still, he'd have liked the full picture.
Well, all things considered, that was pretty easy. He didn't think he'd be able to get close enough before Jack realised and yet a certain someone clearly let their guard down a little too much. All it took was that moment of distraction to slice Jack's throat open and use the shock and eventual death as a way to subdue the freak long enough to cuff him to the same post he'd been trapped on that day. Oh yes, it felt good to finally have his revenge. And fitting too, given his own terrible circumstances.
"Wakey, wakey, freak," the Master called out cheerfully from where he was crouched, trying to get under the TARDIS's control panel to rewire that pesky lock the Doctor had. If he was taking the TARDIS, he needed to be able to fly it. And he was confident he'd find a way. "I would say I'm sorry for all of this but we've known each other for a while now and I really don't feel right lying to you."
With a fake smile dripping with mock sincerity, he tilted his head a little to appreciate the sight of Jack in his current position. Glorious. "You know me too well by now."
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Just after the Master has been shot and refused to regenerate. Kinda. Wibbly-wobbly.
For all it mattered to him at the moment, no one else could have been here. Just him and the Master's lifeless body, already starting to cool. "No!"
There had to be something! Anything! His eyes had tears in them when he looked up, casting a wild look around the room. "Jack! Jack, come here. Come here right now."
Alternate timelines ROCK
"What?"
He didn't have time to think, if the Doctor's desperate voice was anything to go by. He hurried over to his side and knelt down. "Doctor, he's gone. He's not coming back. I'm sorry."
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His other arm was still wound tightly around the Master's body while he kissed Jack, eyes closed. He needed focus, there was no time to formulate a better plan. He couldn't lose him.
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A while after they started out. Most precise time.
Finally he couldn't bear the tension anymore, waiting for him to wake up and not knowing if he would and dreading either outcome. Finally he made his way to Jack's room, still wearing his glasses. He didn't bother knocking, because some lessons he'd never learn, but instead walked right in.
"Jack?"
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When the Doctor decided to pay Jack a visit, he had actually just finished a shower and was toweling off his hair, his body already mostly dry. The sudden appearance of him caused him to jump and only look a little sheepish, if only for the Doctor's sake. Any decency or shame he had died ages ago.
"Problem?"
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...that man had like three times this generation's muscle mass, how was that fair?
"No. No problem. I just..." He hadn't really thought of what to tell Jack, but he realized that for various reasons telling him that he simply couldn't stand the Master's quiet presence anymore wouldn't be the best idea. "Just checking up on you." He found a smile somewhere, after all he had experience in faking those. "Part of the service. I forgot my stewardess uniform."
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Everyone's favourite has awoken!
And all around him was the gentle hum of this decrypted old rust box of a TARDIS.
The Master jerked as his mind slowly woke up, hands straining against his cuffs. What was happening? This didn't make any sense. He was shot, he died. He definitely one hundred percent remembered dying. And he certainly didn't feel the very familiar pain of a gun shot wound when he was moving.
Hissing, the Master yanked harder against the cuffs, trying to force his hand through the loops. This was far from ideal.
Yay!
"You're awake!" Alive, he was alive. It had worked. The relief he felt was palpable. "Welcome back."
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"What did you do?!"
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"I don't think you two can just keep pouting the whole time," the Doctor reasoned as he paused from licking the ice cream off the cone in his hand, "We have ice cream. It's very anti-pouting."
The kitchen should have had more than enough space for three people, but since they all came with a lot of tension of all kinds, it felt rather cramped. The Doctor did his best to ignore that, sitting in the chair, feet on the table, leaning back and mostly just paying attention to his ice cream instead of Jack or the Master. At least the ice cream didn't judge him. And it was delicious.
He turned the cone in his hand, tongue out so he could swirl it all up properly. Mhmm, banana.
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Jack had to force himself to pay attention to his own ice cream, very deliberately trying not to be sexual with it at all. Though it was somewhat difficult. How did they come to the conclusion that this would be the best ice breaker? It wasn't, and Jack half felt like climbing onto the counters to get away from the Master.
"So why are we doing this again?"
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Yes, biting. Maybe he could freeze himself to death. Or get an horrendous ice cream headache that would somehow remove him from this dull attempt at bonding. It was so obvious what the Doctor's intent was, he almost felt bad for him. Like this would ever work.
"He wants us to get on, probably," Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow at the Doctor. "Not working. Having this freak near me makes me want to retch up my ice cream."
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I'm gonna ramble so yeah
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The day after the ice cream disaster, probably?
Carrying his cone he headed to Jack's room, not knocking and simply walking right in. "Jack, do you have a moment?"
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And then the door opened, causing Jack to jump. Okay. So he'd been caught. Now what? He hadn't really had this problem since he was a boy, and yet he still felt somewhat embarrassed -- mostly for the Doctor. He sat up in a hurry, red in the face and staring very intently at the Doctor.
"Don't you knock?!" he cried. God dammit, and he'd been so close, too!
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He walked back out through the door, closing it behind himself and, with a heavy sigh, leaning back against it. Wait. "JUST SAY WHEN YOU'RE DONE!"
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Mind crush!
Sitting on the floor, one hand on his head, he groaned loudly and rubbed the back in a comforting manner. Oh Rassilon's rod, that really hurt. His brain was rolling around in his damn head, or so it felt like that anyway, he legitimately thought he could puke at any moment. Blinking a few times, he slowly looked up at the man in the room with him, a confused expression because he didn't know the face. Or even the clothes. All he knew was a familiar tingle that left a confused feeling in him.
"... Theta?" Koschei asked, a frown on his face as he let himself slump back downwards, having trouble getting his mind to engage properly. It was like someone had bruised the inside of his mind. "What happened? -- Did we die? I don't get it. My head is killing and--"
He stopped, staring for a moment as he took it all in properly. "You regenerated?!"
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"...something went wrong. Ma..." He broke off and gave a quick shake of his head. "I'm sorry. I... I can fix it. Promise."
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There was a pause as he looked down at his new hands, older and stubber than his other pair. So they'd both regenerated? Dear lord, what had Theta done this time? Had he actually killed them? "You can't fix regeneration, dimwit. What did you do? You're all different. And so am I!"
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tinkering
But even so, they worked together quite well. The Doctor had begun to understand just what Koschei was getting at and he was fairly certain that it would actually work. The faster the better, because no matter how torn he was on the subject on an emotional level, he definitely knew on an intellectual level that it should be resolved as fast as possible.
"Looking good, don't you think?" He swiped his finger along the phial he held, sticking it into his mouth for a taste. "I think this should work."
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As he continued to fiddle around with the cables on his end of the device, he paused slightly and turned to the Doctor, a small look of achievement on his face. Okay, yes, Koschei did find the Doctor insane to a degree but he also did adore the praise he got from him. Even if it was all won with the most sober of looks.
"For the most part, yes," Koschei agreed as he offered out the circuit he'd finish with a raise of his eyebrow. "Lemme just fine tune your half."
Well, it was okay but this was his mind. He wanted it to be of the highest quality.
Morning after Jack gets laid
He was currently grasping onto the handle of the fridge with one hand while the other tried to part the sides, a look of frustration on his face. Someone was still bitter over being a paradox machine.
"Open, you stupid old rust bucket," the Master hissed angrily, giving up with a sigh and childishly kicking the fridge in response. Not that it so much as dented it, all it did was hurt his foot. Wincing, he continued to glare, a vague sort of childish pout on his face. He was so telling the Doctor. "If you were mine, I'd sell you for scrap metal."
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He didn't know what the Master's problem was when Jack came to the kitchen dressed only in his trousers and set himself to making coffee for himself and the Doctor. The Master would have to get his own.
"You know, it usually responds to 'please'," he teased. "What's your problem today?"
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"My problem is here. She doesn't respond to please or anything, she's an outdated old piece of junk," the Master complained, sighing loudly as he spun around on his feet, leaning against the fridge with a critical frown on his face. "You're happy this morning."
Well, he didn't like that at all. And why was he making two coffees anyway? "Have a good wank last night or something?"
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Violence? On the TARDIS?!
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"Wakey, wakey, freak," the Master called out cheerfully from where he was crouched, trying to get under the TARDIS's control panel to rewire that pesky lock the Doctor had. If he was taking the TARDIS, he needed to be able to fly it. And he was confident he'd find a way. "I would say I'm sorry for all of this but we've known each other for a while now and I really don't feel right lying to you."
With a fake smile dripping with mock sincerity, he tilted his head a little to appreciate the sight of Jack in his current position. Glorious. "You know me too well by now."
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