"Oh here it comes, the prisoner lecture. Last week I wasn't a prisoner, the Doctor was 'helping' me. This week I'm a prisoner again. You two are very fickle," the Master lamented as he ate the rest of his cone and slumped back in his chair. No massive painful brain freeze, how disappointing. With a slight pout, he debated whether or not it was wise to try and kick Jack's feet under the table. Or the Doctors. Would it be funny or just end in a punch?
Probably a punch.
Keeping his feet still, he rolled his eyes at both of them. "I had to sit through a charity cricket match once, nearly died from the boredom. Lucy fell asleep half way through. They stopped playing when it rained slightly so I slipped out the back and left," the Master remarked with a slight frown on his face, feeling slightly annoyed that he agreed with Jack. Football was better. The frown soon turned into a smile when something dawned on him and he just had to laugh. A proper non-cruel laugh for once, what a miracle indeed.
"Did people who played cricket really used to wear that awful thing you did? You know, the creamish suit with the silly hat and celery. You said to me once it was a 'cricket outfit'."
"What football? The proper one or American? I haven't really followed sports much since..." The Doctor perked up at the Master's laugh and had to smile despite himself. "It was a historically accurate cricket outfit! Well, the celery was a bit of something extra, but it's always good to have celery around." He looked at Jack as if looking for his approval. "Very healthy, celery. Saved my life."
The Doctor decided that perhaps the best course of action was not to discuss the whole prison issue further. It wasn't as if they would get anywhere that way. Better to stick to something that might not end in violent disagreement, even if he'd rather not talk too much about his former self.
"You'd have liked me then, Jack. It was a good face."
Jack raised an eyebrow at the Doctor when he asked his question. "Proper football. Though I'm not averse to watching men tackle each other into the dirt, either."
The description of his former face was curious. Jack wondered to himself just how many he'd had before. He managed to get a peek at what must have been one of them when the Doctor was working for UNIT. Bit older. Too much frill for Jack's taste. Still, picturing the Doctor as he was now in a cricket uniform.. wasn't bad.
"You'll have to show me photos. I like a good face."
"Didn't save it for too long though, did it?" the Master remarked with an amused look. Those were the days when they had easier battles, mostly just poking each other to see who'd hurt who the most. The Doctor soon settled that query by setting him on fire, a charming way to settle an argument indeed. "Fair enough, I didn't know many Time Lords who could rock a vegetable as a broach."
Tilting back in his chair, it was his turn to put his feet up onto the table, pushing himself back so he was only on two leg instead of all four. He was basically asking to be tipped over.
"I liked you more then, you were fun. And less clingy," the Master mused with a slight sigh. Oh how he missed the harsher Doctor's. "And then you became that one. With the multicoloured coat. Dear Lord, what a lunatic. And people say I'm made, you were worse. The clothes, the hair, the volume control issues."
"I was blond," he told Jack, "Went well with the cream suit." A bit of vanity was allowed, wasn't it? He could appreciate some things about his past, he had enough trouble living with everything else.
"I'm not clingy. You just need an eye or two on you these days." That and he was a little clingy. The Doctor rubbed the back of his head, ending up tugging on his hair. "Well, yeah. I reckon I was going through something of a midlife crisis." The Doctor looked at Jack and flashed him a grin. "I'll show you the one with the cricket outfit if I can find something good, but the one after that... Well, let's just say the good thing about the outfit was that I was wearing it, so I didn't have to look at it that much."
Blond was difficult for Jack to picture. Multicoloured coat was even more difficult. He couldn't help but feel a little left out of the conversation, a bit like meeting up with your girlfriend's friends from uni. He didn't have anything to add, but he desperately wanted something to share.
"I kinda miss the leather jacket. Ears were nice too." He smiled. That had been the face he fell for. He still thought of it from time to time, but this one was good too. "Though, I think I like the hair better now. Sideburns, too. You're not quite as grumpy, either. It's nice."
"I think that's disconcerting personally," the Master mused, still tilting back in his chair on those two legs, eyes on the Doctor. He didn't focus on Jack, he didn't even want to look at the freak. He was annoyed enough as it was that Jack was describing a regeneration he didn't know. What an annoying little fact, a regeneration he didn't know. Rude.
"That you're not grumpy, I mean. You're usually grumpy. In my experience, when you're not grumpy and you seem so nice and pleasant, it means you're on the verge of a break down," the Master wasn't really set on this theory but he had pretty good evidence to support it. Plus he had a funny feeling that analysing the Doctor would piss either him or Jack off and that was just a picnic for him. "Then hell hath no fury when you lose your shit. I remember it with the fourth one of yours. Remember, big scarf, creepy grin? Seemed so nice and yet you were such a horrible creature inside."
Then, thoughtfully, he let his head roll back with a sigh. "I can't wait to see what happens when you snap. It'll be more fun than ice-cream and forgiveness."
While the Doctor really wasn't aware that Jack had just compared him to his girlfriend, he could guess that the man might feel left out and since he wanted to avoid that, he gladly jumped on the topic of his last regeneration, even if it made him scratch behind his ear with a grin. "Oh yeah, the ears. Well. I've still got the leather jacket somewhere, but I can't wear it without looking like I took it from my big brother." He lifted his hand to run it through his hair. "The hair is great though, last one was rather utilitarian. It worked at the time." The soldier, fresh from the time war. Best not to think about that too long. Instead he looked at the Master, eyes hardening at first before his face relaxed into a smile.
"Oh, I think you can wait. I can't recall you ever taking to being terrified." With a wide grin he bit off the edge of the cone, lapping up what came spilling out.
Big scarf, huh? Jack tried to picture it, but nothing was coming to mind except comically oversized scarves. He didn't know what to make of the Master's analysis, but for some reason, it didn't really sit well with him. Not that he was mad, really, just maybe a touch jealous. He could also see what the Master was talking about, and more than anything he was saying, that was what upset him the most. He hated agreeing with him.
Jack watched the Doctor nibble on his cone and decided to finish his own off with a couple of bites. "I think we could all do with a bit of waiting. I like my Doctor cute and harmless, and as much as I'd like to see you wet yourself," Jack said, looking straight over at the Master. "I think I'd rather savour that moment instead."
"A desire to see a grown man piss himself? Will your perverse mind ever cease," the Master mocked, not even willing to rise to the bait because yes, a few times he had felt that kind of horrendous fear that does indeed make one want to piss themselves and curl up into a fetal ball but fortunately for everyone, the Master usually opted for the cleaner and nicer method. Drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, grovel if he had to and sometimes offer to change his ways. Usually worked, it had a seventy-five percent success rate.
"What will make you snap?" the Master asked with a frown, purposefully trying to ruin the nicer topic just to be a giant party crasher and absolute asshole. He hated playing nice, especially when he'd lost so horribly and was forced to be in the company of the man who'd defeated him. Brought out his pettiest side. "I mean you didn't snap over the genocide of most the population of Earth, the torture of your dearest friends and the mutilation of your favourite creatures. Or maybe you're teetering over that one, barely hanging on. And this whole sitting around having ice-cream bit is just your way of dealing with the ugly truth that you saved a monster for no other reason than your own pathetic longing.."
The Master grinned now, a very happy one, dropping his chair back down on all fours and resting his hand on the table, idly drumming his fingers in familiar beat. "Maybe you've already snapped and that's why you're so -- I don't know, weak? You give in far too easily." Pausing, he looked at the Doctor in a friendly manner, as if he hadn't just been poking him horribly for the past few moments. "Can I have more ice-cream?"
The Doctor regarded the Master silently for several moments, then he finally settled on a smile. "I've lived through pain I never thought I would this regeneration. I brought you back from the dead and if I could tear a wall down between universes, I'd do that, too. I don't need to snap to be crazy. Wouldn't call that harmless."
He turned to look at Jack, flashing him a brilliant smile. "Though I'll take 'cute'." With a shrug he gestured toward the freezer. "Help yourself, Master. I've asked you to eat ice cream, certainly won't stop you now."
Instead of letting the Master's words get to him he leaned back in his chair again, putting his feet back on the table. "Maybe if you eat enough you'll grow big and strong like my Jack."
Jack gave the Doctor a knowing look, knowing exactly what he'd do if he could tear down the walls of the universe. Okay, understandable, but who can blame him for being a little jealous? He did like the way that the Doctor smiled at him, though, so he smiled right on back at him.
"Unless he gets fat." Actually... "In fact, sure, eat more ice cream. Eat it all, in fact. I think I'd like you fat. Harder for you to try and slip out those tiny TARDIS doors."
"Funny, you're both so funny," the Master deadpanned as he reached up,grabbing the tub of ice cream and pulling it closer. Screw them both, he could eat all he bloody wanted. Time Lord biology was an amazing thing, so many handy dandy little tricks and cheats.
"Yours is he? Hmm, I thought you left him behind in an attempt to ditch him," the Master remarked bluntly, smiling at them both in good humour. Because hey, he'd been the Doctors before. Never ended well."I wouldn't celebrate... Its like a kiss of death. Being his. He ruins whomever he loves."
Well then. That hit a lot closer to home than he cared for. The Doctor closed his eyes and finished off his cone, using a full mouth as an excuse to not reply right away. Too much truth in that and he didn't need the Master of all people telling him.
Something that made him keep his distance from Jack, that was the reason he'd treated Martha so much worse than she deserved until it was too late and she left him. Rose. He wondered how Rose was doing. He'd never know.
Suddenly he'd have much preferred being alone. "Leave me some of the banana ice cream, will you?" He looked at the ice cream instead of anything else or anyone else, by now definitely regretting having called Jack his.
Jack clearly didn't seem to agree with the Master on this matter, but the way that the Doctor was sidestepping the conversation implied that it had gotten to him, even just a little. Jack had known the Doctor well enough to know his habits when it came to things getting to him.
"Then he must have loved the hell out of you," he said with a grin to the Master. "You're a mess, darling." Okay, so the Doctor may have abandoned him on that satellite, and maybe tried to ditch him by travelling to the end of the universe... but Jack was a mostly agreeable kind of guy, so why hold grudges?
"You're upset. You're also a dick. He's trying to be nice to you and you keep being a prick. And I know you really don't care, but he does. And you've got to deal with him. And fair warning, if the Doctor's upset, so am I."
The Master, because he was a total childish brat, purposefully pulled the banana flavoured ice cream over with the intent to eat it all. Even if he despised the taste of banana. Because if he was stuck here, miserable and bored, so would the Doctor be. And hopefully the freak too. Though he less wanted to bore Jack and more scare him. Or anger him. Honestly, he'd settle for endless unsettled annoyance.
With a bitter laugh, the Master smirked at Jack, unable to help himself. Well, he was right on the money. Look at what a life time of the Doctor's love and rejection did to a man. Well, that and the fact that he was just very happy when he hurt people. So many reasons why but why bore everyone with them? The Master had no intention of changing.
"Trying to be nice? What's nice about this? Imprisoned when I should be dead, locked alone all day with the drums tearing my mind apart and all the while he looks at me with such pity," the Master turned to the Doctor, a glare set on his face. "I don't care if I upset either of you. Honestly, it makes things all the more bearable for me. If I have to suffer here, so do you two. And trust me when I say I can do that."
Even psychologically, he knew he could ruin them both with time and the right ammo. "He's upset for a reason, you know? Can't even take the truth."
"I'm not being nice. You've said it yourself. Why would I be nice to you at this turn? For all you've done you don't deserve any better than to suffer." The Doctor seemed fairly in control of his feelings at the moment, although there was a slightly worrisome glance toward the ice cream. "If you ever become more like yourself again, your brilliant, beautiful self, then you won't think this is all that bad." He shrugged and put his feet down, leaning back in the chair. "If not, well. In that case I reckon you'll just have to keep suffering. Too bad, too. You could be so great."
The Doctor looked at him for a few moments longer, than he shook his head and turned to Jack. "You have an entirely too high opinion of me. No idea where that comes from." He smiled anyway, because Jack's presence made the Master's words have so much less impact. So much easier to put up a front when someone else was present. "Enough ice cream, I believe. But thank you for not hitting him."
The Doctor's words were actually rather surprising to Jack. He'd never heard him be so deliberately *mean* before. It was quite startling, actually. He swallowed and rested his cheek in his hand, listening to the Doctor.
"We worked with UNIT. They might have had some interesting things to say about you, but none of it was ever bad. Good group of people. Love the berets." Jack chuckled a little and ran a hand through his hair. "I would hit him, but it's honestly not worth it right now." He shot a narrowed gaze over to the Master. "Sometimes I wish you would get torn apart. I'd sell tickets to the event."
Until he was himself? What did that even mean? How could he be anything but what he was now? It was insane to expect the Master to be someone else, someone who didn't exist. With anger curling inside him, it took all his self control to not lash out at the Doctor. Instead, he calmly looked at him, fists clenched together. "The funny thing about the past is that you tend to look at it in rose tinted shades, believing a lie is possible. If you don't believe that this me is the real me then you clearly never paid that much attention. I've always been capable of all of this."
The Master rose to his feet, purposefully knocking the ice-cream of the table to spite the Doctor. Yep, there it went, banana ice cream all over the floor. All because he dared to compliment the man the Master had once been.
"It's funny really but all I needed was you to see all of this. I wanted to do so many brilliant beautiful things and then I met you. And you changed that. Now look at me!" the Master grinned an unhinged grin, turning his head to Jack with a laugh bubbling up inside him. "It's great to be 'his', isn't it? He loves to have friends, doesn't he? Not real friends, imaginary ones. Ones he makes up. Doesn't matter who we are or what we do. We have to fit his standard and do what he wants us to. Even if we aren't that person. Even if we can't be that person."
And the blunt fact of the matter was that the Master was not Koschei. And he wasn't that kind of man. Gritting his teeth, the Master shoved his chair back as far as he could, eyes back on the Doctor with a horrible feeling of bitterness and rejection. Rejection of the Doctor glorifying his youth and refusing to see the man he was.
"I'll glad suffer for all of time as long as you're suffering with me. We both deserve this, Doctor. We're going to rot in this rustbox forever and all because of you. Who knows, maybe the freak will outlive us both because we're not getting out of here any time soon, are we?"
"I know what you're capable of. I know what I'm capable of. But there's still a difference, isn't there?" The Doctor watched the Master, fairly sure that he could see the fear in his eyes. He knew better than to comment on it out loud, the Master had to be aware. "You've been driven to this point."
Not all him. Those drums, that mad delusion inside him. He wished he could believe they came from outside, but they certainly felt off. Changed him from who the Doctor thought he could be and it had only gotten worse over the years. He shook his head and leaned down to pick up the bucket of ice cream, placing it back on the table. His tone and expression changed, softened, he tried to catch his eyes again. "We can try, don't you think? It's better than giving up and dying. I can't let that happen."
He got up and rubbed the back of his head, combing his fingers through his hair in frustration and finally stepping in front of Jack. "This can't be much fun for you. He's right, you know, in some things. Me being a sentimental fool, for example."
The moment that the Master had locked eyes with Jack, he was ready to jump up to punch the Master into silence, but when the Doctor got up to pick up the bucket, Jack decided maybe he had it under control. He certainly seemed calm enough to. Still, he hated the Master talking about the Doctor like that. It wasn't okay with him.
The Doctor had a point. If it weren't for his sentiment toward the Master, they wouldn't be in this position. The Master would be dead, Jack would be back in Cardiff, and all would be right with the world. But that wasn't the decision that the Doctor had made, and now they had to deal with the consequences.
"You are who you are, Doctor. You can't help but want to try and save someone who doesn't want to be saved. That's not like you. You help people. I get it." He turned to face the Master.
"But you. I am so damn sick of you bitching and complaining about your circumstances. No, you're not where you want to be, yes, you were denied the death you chose, but you know what? At least you HAD a choice to begin with. Not like the thousands of people you mercilessly slaughtered. I don't care if you didn't see them as worth having a life, NO ONE gets to make that choice."
He rose from his seat, jaw set tight. "This... What you're complaining about, not being able to die? Welcome to my world. That is the hell that I faced EVERY TIME you killed me. Do you think I liked it? That I had fun?! Who the hell would like waking up after having been pulled apart by dogs to see the man who put it together standing over you with a pair of pliers, wondering what he's going to do with them?!" Jack began to shake and firmly planted his fist onto the table to hide it. "Do you know what it's like to come back to life after immolation before your skin even grows back and get to feel it grow back cell by cell? You of all people should be lucky that this is what you came back to. I would have killed my own mother just to have this even one of the times I woke up from what you did to me."
"I'm a Time Lord, I have that right," the Master responded bluntly to Jack because who cared about those worthless lives, the Master had the most authority therefore he had the choice. And he didn't regret the one he made. No, he felt justified in everything he'd done. Nothing struck him as overtly wrong. But then, it was hard to hear his conscience over the drums, he could never be sure how he truly felt about anything. "Isn't that right, Doctor? We pick who lives and dies, we earned that."
Then, hands in pockets, he slid out from where his seat was to move around the Doctor, eyes on him the whole time even if he was addressing Jack because he knew, he just knew, that the Doctor thought he was right. Somewhere, deep down,that God complex agreed with him.
"I do know, actually. The Doctor set me on fire, remember? Didn't kill me right away, I lay there for days in agony. Only it didn't heal back, I didn't have that luxury, I could feel the pain that soon faded into one horrendous blur of pain. I had to drag myself miles to get help," the Master remarked with an unsettling look in his eyes. Oh yes, the Master had suffered. The Master had died in so many horrible repulsive ways... but honestly, he'd always deserved them. Well, most of the time. Unlike Jack, the Master brought it on himself, he just never saw it. "Then there was that black hole you sent me too, Doctor? Remember that? Tore me to piece again and again and again. All because of what? You. Ruining what I had. And you took her away from me! Cause see, that's the thing, I do get to look at the man who killed me. Constantly. I'm doing it right now."
The Doctor, through accident, circumstance and impulsive thinking, was his executioner and torturer. It was ironic really. "It's not my fault he made you a freak then dangled you in front of me. He should have known better."
"I don't pick who lives and dies. I just sometimes wish I could." The Doctor turned around, his back to Jack so he could keep an eye on the Master. It was clear who he trusted, whatever else he might feel for both of them. Guilt most of all and first Jack's recounting of the things he'd suffered through and then the Master's tale... Yeah, the guilt wasn't going anywhere.
"...let's go to your room, Master." The 'I'm sorry.' almost came out, but he managed to hold it back. Barely. Too many things to apologize for and no ways of making up for any of it. But he couldn't give up. That's why he'd forgiven the Master, that's why he had brought him with him. He couldn't keep losing everything and everyone. "Do you need new books? Furniture to smash?"
Jack couldn't help it; the Master's tale had sent a bit of a chill through him. If he had suffered so, why had he been so eager to make Jack suffer the same? Was it just that he was a psychopath and had no empathy? Probably.
It seemed as though the Doctor had had enough abuse for one day and was dismissing the Master. Jack placed a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze before circling round to help bully the Master back into his pen.
"Come on, move it. We've had about enough of your mouth for one day, all right? No one cares and no one's listening."
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Probably a punch.
Keeping his feet still, he rolled his eyes at both of them. "I had to sit through a charity cricket match once, nearly died from the boredom. Lucy fell asleep half way through. They stopped playing when it rained slightly so I slipped out the back and left," the Master remarked with a slight frown on his face, feeling slightly annoyed that he agreed with Jack. Football was better. The frown soon turned into a smile when something dawned on him and he just had to laugh. A proper non-cruel laugh for once, what a miracle indeed.
"Did people who played cricket really used to wear that awful thing you did? You know, the creamish suit with the silly hat and celery. You said to me once it was a 'cricket outfit'."
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The Doctor decided that perhaps the best course of action was not to discuss the whole prison issue further. It wasn't as if they would get anywhere that way. Better to stick to something that might not end in violent disagreement, even if he'd rather not talk too much about his former self.
"You'd have liked me then, Jack. It was a good face."
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The description of his former face was curious. Jack wondered to himself just how many he'd had before. He managed to get a peek at what must have been one of them when the Doctor was working for UNIT. Bit older. Too much frill for Jack's taste. Still, picturing the Doctor as he was now in a cricket uniform.. wasn't bad.
"You'll have to show me photos. I like a good face."
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Tilting back in his chair, it was his turn to put his feet up onto the table, pushing himself back so he was only on two leg instead of all four. He was basically asking to be tipped over.
"I liked you more then, you were fun. And less clingy," the Master mused with a slight sigh. Oh how he missed the harsher Doctor's. "And then you became that one. With the multicoloured coat. Dear Lord, what a lunatic. And people say I'm made, you were worse. The clothes, the hair, the volume control issues."
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"I'm not clingy. You just need an eye or two on you these days." That and he was a little clingy. The Doctor rubbed the back of his head, ending up tugging on his hair. "Well, yeah. I reckon I was going through something of a midlife crisis." The Doctor looked at Jack and flashed him a grin. "I'll show you the one with the cricket outfit if I can find something good, but the one after that... Well, let's just say the good thing about the outfit was that I was wearing it, so I didn't have to look at it that much."
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"I kinda miss the leather jacket. Ears were nice too." He smiled. That had been the face he fell for. He still thought of it from time to time, but this one was good too. "Though, I think I like the hair better now. Sideburns, too. You're not quite as grumpy, either. It's nice."
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"That you're not grumpy, I mean. You're usually grumpy. In my experience, when you're not grumpy and you seem so nice and pleasant, it means you're on the verge of a break down," the Master wasn't really set on this theory but he had pretty good evidence to support it. Plus he had a funny feeling that analysing the Doctor would piss either him or Jack off and that was just a picnic for him. "Then hell hath no fury when you lose your shit. I remember it with the fourth one of yours. Remember, big scarf, creepy grin? Seemed so nice and yet you were such a horrible creature inside."
Then, thoughtfully, he let his head roll back with a sigh. "I can't wait to see what happens when you snap. It'll be more fun than ice-cream and forgiveness."
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"Oh, I think you can wait. I can't recall you ever taking to being terrified." With a wide grin he bit off the edge of the cone, lapping up what came spilling out.
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Jack watched the Doctor nibble on his cone and decided to finish his own off with a couple of bites. "I think we could all do with a bit of waiting. I like my Doctor cute and harmless, and as much as I'd like to see you wet yourself," Jack said, looking straight over at the Master. "I think I'd rather savour that moment instead."
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"What will make you snap?" the Master asked with a frown, purposefully trying to ruin the nicer topic just to be a giant party crasher and absolute asshole. He hated playing nice, especially when he'd lost so horribly and was forced to be in the company of the man who'd defeated him. Brought out his pettiest side. "I mean you didn't snap over the genocide of most the population of Earth, the torture of your dearest friends and the mutilation of your favourite creatures. Or maybe you're teetering over that one, barely hanging on. And this whole sitting around having ice-cream bit is just your way of dealing with the ugly truth that you saved a monster for no other reason than your own pathetic longing.."
The Master grinned now, a very happy one, dropping his chair back down on all fours and resting his hand on the table, idly drumming his fingers in familiar beat. "Maybe you've already snapped and that's why you're so -- I don't know, weak? You give in far too easily." Pausing, he looked at the Doctor in a friendly manner, as if he hadn't just been poking him horribly for the past few moments. "Can I have more ice-cream?"
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He turned to look at Jack, flashing him a brilliant smile. "Though I'll take 'cute'." With a shrug he gestured toward the freezer. "Help yourself, Master. I've asked you to eat ice cream, certainly won't stop you now."
Instead of letting the Master's words get to him he leaned back in his chair again, putting his feet back on the table. "Maybe if you eat enough you'll grow big and strong like my Jack."
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"Unless he gets fat." Actually... "In fact, sure, eat more ice cream. Eat it all, in fact. I think I'd like you fat. Harder for you to try and slip out those tiny TARDIS doors."
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"Yours is he? Hmm, I thought you left him behind in an attempt to ditch him," the Master remarked bluntly, smiling at them both in good humour. Because hey, he'd been the Doctors before. Never ended well."I wouldn't celebrate... Its like a kiss of death. Being his. He ruins whomever he loves."
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Something that made him keep his distance from Jack, that was the reason he'd treated Martha so much worse than she deserved until it was too late and she left him. Rose. He wondered how Rose was doing. He'd never know.
Suddenly he'd have much preferred being alone. "Leave me some of the banana ice cream, will you?" He looked at the ice cream instead of anything else or anyone else, by now definitely regretting having called Jack his.
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"Then he must have loved the hell out of you," he said with a grin to the Master. "You're a mess, darling." Okay, so the Doctor may have abandoned him on that satellite, and maybe tried to ditch him by travelling to the end of the universe... but Jack was a mostly agreeable kind of guy, so why hold grudges?
"You're upset. You're also a dick. He's trying to be nice to you and you keep being a prick. And I know you really don't care, but he does. And you've got to deal with him. And fair warning, if the Doctor's upset, so am I."
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With a bitter laugh, the Master smirked at Jack, unable to help himself. Well, he was right on the money. Look at what a life time of the Doctor's love and rejection did to a man. Well, that and the fact that he was just very happy when he hurt people. So many reasons why but why bore everyone with them? The Master had no intention of changing.
"Trying to be nice? What's nice about this? Imprisoned when I should be dead, locked alone all day with the drums tearing my mind apart and all the while he looks at me with such pity," the Master turned to the Doctor, a glare set on his face. "I don't care if I upset either of you. Honestly, it makes things all the more bearable for me. If I have to suffer here, so do you two. And trust me when I say I can do that."
Even psychologically, he knew he could ruin them both with time and the right ammo. "He's upset for a reason, you know? Can't even take the truth."
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The Doctor looked at him for a few moments longer, than he shook his head and turned to Jack. "You have an entirely too high opinion of me. No idea where that comes from." He smiled anyway, because Jack's presence made the Master's words have so much less impact. So much easier to put up a front when someone else was present. "Enough ice cream, I believe. But thank you for not hitting him."
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"We worked with UNIT. They might have had some interesting things to say about you, but none of it was ever bad. Good group of people. Love the berets." Jack chuckled a little and ran a hand through his hair. "I would hit him, but it's honestly not worth it right now." He shot a narrowed gaze over to the Master. "Sometimes I wish you would get torn apart. I'd sell tickets to the event."
I'm gonna ramble so yeah
The Master rose to his feet, purposefully knocking the ice-cream of the table to spite the Doctor. Yep, there it went, banana ice cream all over the floor. All because he dared to compliment the man the Master had once been.
"It's funny really but all I needed was you to see all of this. I wanted to do so many brilliant beautiful things and then I met you. And you changed that. Now look at me!" the Master grinned an unhinged grin, turning his head to Jack with a laugh bubbling up inside him. "It's great to be 'his', isn't it? He loves to have friends, doesn't he? Not real friends, imaginary ones. Ones he makes up. Doesn't matter who we are or what we do. We have to fit his standard and do what he wants us to. Even if we aren't that person. Even if we can't be that person."
And the blunt fact of the matter was that the Master was not Koschei. And he wasn't that kind of man. Gritting his teeth, the Master shoved his chair back as far as he could, eyes back on the Doctor with a horrible feeling of bitterness and rejection. Rejection of the Doctor glorifying his youth and refusing to see the man he was.
"I'll glad suffer for all of time as long as you're suffering with me. We both deserve this, Doctor. We're going to rot in this rustbox forever and all because of you. Who knows, maybe the freak will outlive us both because we're not getting out of here any time soon, are we?"
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Not all him. Those drums, that mad delusion inside him. He wished he could believe they came from outside, but they certainly felt off. Changed him from who the Doctor thought he could be and it had only gotten worse over the years. He shook his head and leaned down to pick up the bucket of ice cream, placing it back on the table. His tone and expression changed, softened, he tried to catch his eyes again. "We can try, don't you think? It's better than giving up and dying. I can't let that happen."
He got up and rubbed the back of his head, combing his fingers through his hair in frustration and finally stepping in front of Jack. "This can't be much fun for you. He's right, you know, in some things. Me being a sentimental fool, for example."
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The Doctor had a point. If it weren't for his sentiment toward the Master, they wouldn't be in this position. The Master would be dead, Jack would be back in Cardiff, and all would be right with the world. But that wasn't the decision that the Doctor had made, and now they had to deal with the consequences.
"You are who you are, Doctor. You can't help but want to try and save someone who doesn't want to be saved. That's not like you. You help people. I get it." He turned to face the Master.
"But you. I am so damn sick of you bitching and complaining about your circumstances. No, you're not where you want to be, yes, you were denied the death you chose, but you know what? At least you HAD a choice to begin with. Not like the thousands of people you mercilessly slaughtered. I don't care if you didn't see them as worth having a life, NO ONE gets to make that choice."
He rose from his seat, jaw set tight. "This... What you're complaining about, not being able to die? Welcome to my world. That is the hell that I faced EVERY TIME you killed me. Do you think I liked it? That I had fun?! Who the hell would like waking up after having been pulled apart by dogs to see the man who put it together standing over you with a pair of pliers, wondering what he's going to do with them?!" Jack began to shake and firmly planted his fist onto the table to hide it. "Do you know what it's like to come back to life after immolation before your skin even grows back and get to feel it grow back cell by cell? You of all people should be lucky that this is what you came back to. I would have killed my own mother just to have this even one of the times I woke up from what you did to me."
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Then, hands in pockets, he slid out from where his seat was to move around the Doctor, eyes on him the whole time even if he was addressing Jack because he knew, he just knew, that the Doctor thought he was right. Somewhere, deep down,that God complex agreed with him.
"I do know, actually. The Doctor set me on fire, remember? Didn't kill me right away, I lay there for days in agony. Only it didn't heal back, I didn't have that luxury, I could feel the pain that soon faded into one horrendous blur of pain. I had to drag myself miles to get help," the Master remarked with an unsettling look in his eyes. Oh yes, the Master had suffered. The Master had died in so many horrible repulsive ways... but honestly, he'd always deserved them. Well, most of the time. Unlike Jack, the Master brought it on himself, he just never saw it. "Then there was that black hole you sent me too, Doctor? Remember that? Tore me to piece again and again and again. All because of what? You. Ruining what I had. And you took her away from me! Cause see, that's the thing, I do get to look at the man who killed me. Constantly. I'm doing it right now."
The Doctor, through accident, circumstance and impulsive thinking, was his executioner and torturer. It was ironic really. "It's not my fault he made you a freak then dangled you in front of me. He should have known better."
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"...let's go to your room, Master." The 'I'm sorry.' almost came out, but he managed to hold it back. Barely. Too many things to apologize for and no ways of making up for any of it. But he couldn't give up. That's why he'd forgiven the Master, that's why he had brought him with him. He couldn't keep losing everything and everyone. "Do you need new books? Furniture to smash?"
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It seemed as though the Doctor had had enough abuse for one day and was dismissing the Master. Jack placed a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze before circling round to help bully the Master back into his pen.
"Come on, move it. We've had about enough of your mouth for one day, all right? No one cares and no one's listening."