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Not The Last. (3/6)
Fic as promised - remember this isn't a WIP as such, since all I need to do is transfer it from paper to screen. It'll take a while, but I'll get there.
Previous chapters here.
Spoilers for S3, the last few episodes in particular. If you've not seen all of S3, please do not spoil yourself! *looks at certain people*
Setting, characters and (spoilery) A/N under cut.
Setting: AU-post 'Sound of Drums'.
Spoilers: End of S3.
Rating: PG.
Characters: The Master, the Doctor.
Feedback: Please? I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter!
A/N: 'Last of the Timelords' happened pretty much as on the show, except for the little teleportation trip down to earth, which I can't really see taking place. Things obviously went v. differently after time reversed... read on to find out how. :)
Part 3
It was one of the longest days the Doctor could ever remember. Funnily enough sitting around in a wheelchair for a year hadn’t given him some sort of store of saved-up energy...
So many details to sort out - the most important and immediate of course being dealing with the Master and his family. The Doctor had managed to find a suitable house for Lucy and the baby, setting up a perception filter around it and - being short of trustworthy, impartial people - calling up Sarah Jane to watch over them. Also of course he had to mess around with government files, so the authorities wouldn’t ask questions - Jack and Torchwood had been very handy in that respect. Although top of the list had obviously been securing a room in the TARDIS so not even a Timelord could escape...
Slowly he opened the door, wishing he could post-pone this talk, and yet knowing that there was no way around it.
(Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and everything's lost. And he needs to understand what's at stake.)
The Master looked up, calm by now, but the anger was obviously still boiling right underneath the surface.
“Come to tell me my terms, have you? All the little hoops I’ll have to jump through to earn my ‘visitation rights’?”
The Doctor shook his head. “Not quite.”
The Master’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean? I agreed to this imprisonment,” - the words were obviously near impossible to get past his lips - “on the understanding that I could see my boy!”
“Yeah...” The Doctor studied him, “That’s the part I’ve got a problem with. Could it be that there’s something in this world you value more than your own life?”
The Master didn’t answer, just stared at him coldly.
Letting his mind go back over recent events, the Doctor could still vividly recall the Master’s total panic as time began reversing, followed by his frantic rush to Lucy’s side to make sure the baby was still there - and his subsequent blinding fury. It had taken Jack and three of the soldiers to hold him back...
“You could have killed him - unmade him! You nearly destroyed my son, Doctor - I swear I’ll get you for this! I wish I’d killed all your precious humans and you too! Just wait - one day... one day I’ll get my revenge! Do you hear me?”
Was it actual selfless love of another? Was it possessiveness - or obsession? Or something different again? He didn’t know. Maybe even the Master himself didn’t know. But the Doctor wasn’t about to take a gamble on anything as capricious as feelings.
“Look,” the Doctor leaned against the door frame, “here’s how it is. You get one chance - just like everyone else. We’ll sort out visits and playtimes and trips out, even. But try anything - a bribe here, some mind control there, a sneaky plan to steal the boy - anything... and that’s it.”
The Master tilted his head.
“What do you mean ‘that’s it’? I don’t get to see him anymore?”
The Doctor smiled coldly. “Not quite.” He reached inside a pocket, pulled out a mirror and tossed it to the Master.
“Ask her what I mean. She’s one of those who learned the meaning of ‘no second chances', and - unlike most of the others - lives to tell the tale.”
The Master held up the mirror, checking out his own reflection and flattening some of his hair, which was still somewhat in disarray; then looked up, clearly thrown.
“What am I supposed to do here? Is it some sort of riddle - seven years bad luck if I break it?”
“Keep looking. She’s there - right out of the corner of your eye... I’m sure you’ll catch her sooner or later.” The Doctor turned, hand on door handle. “I have things to do - enjoy your chat.”
*
It was several hours before he returned, but when he opened the door the Master immediately sat up, smiling widely.
“But look! It’s my favourite Doctor! The man who imprisoned a poor little girl for all eternity. Nasty business that, Doctor, very nasty. I think I might be impressed!”
“Good.” The Doctor caught his eyes and held them. “I trust you won’t waste your chance.”
“Aww...” The Master really did excel at mocking. “But I thought you forgave me everything!”
The was a long moment, then the Doctor answered, features immobile.
“I forgave. I didn’t forget.”
Part 4.
Previous chapters here.
Spoilers for S3, the last few episodes in particular. If you've not seen all of S3, please do not spoil yourself! *looks at certain people*
Setting, characters and (spoilery) A/N under cut.
Setting: AU-post 'Sound of Drums'.
Spoilers: End of S3.
Rating: PG.
Characters: The Master, the Doctor.
Feedback: Please? I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter!
A/N: 'Last of the Timelords' happened pretty much as on the show, except for the little teleportation trip down to earth, which I can't really see taking place. Things obviously went v. differently after time reversed... read on to find out how. :)
It was one of the longest days the Doctor could ever remember. Funnily enough sitting around in a wheelchair for a year hadn’t given him some sort of store of saved-up energy...
So many details to sort out - the most important and immediate of course being dealing with the Master and his family. The Doctor had managed to find a suitable house for Lucy and the baby, setting up a perception filter around it and - being short of trustworthy, impartial people - calling up Sarah Jane to watch over them. Also of course he had to mess around with government files, so the authorities wouldn’t ask questions - Jack and Torchwood had been very handy in that respect. Although top of the list had obviously been securing a room in the TARDIS so not even a Timelord could escape...
Slowly he opened the door, wishing he could post-pone this talk, and yet knowing that there was no way around it.
(Don't blink. Don't even blink. Blink and everything's lost. And he needs to understand what's at stake.)
The Master looked up, calm by now, but the anger was obviously still boiling right underneath the surface.
“Come to tell me my terms, have you? All the little hoops I’ll have to jump through to earn my ‘visitation rights’?”
The Doctor shook his head. “Not quite.”
The Master’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean? I agreed to this imprisonment,” - the words were obviously near impossible to get past his lips - “on the understanding that I could see my boy!”
“Yeah...” The Doctor studied him, “That’s the part I’ve got a problem with. Could it be that there’s something in this world you value more than your own life?”
The Master didn’t answer, just stared at him coldly.
Letting his mind go back over recent events, the Doctor could still vividly recall the Master’s total panic as time began reversing, followed by his frantic rush to Lucy’s side to make sure the baby was still there - and his subsequent blinding fury. It had taken Jack and three of the soldiers to hold him back...
“You could have killed him - unmade him! You nearly destroyed my son, Doctor - I swear I’ll get you for this! I wish I’d killed all your precious humans and you too! Just wait - one day... one day I’ll get my revenge! Do you hear me?”
Was it actual selfless love of another? Was it possessiveness - or obsession? Or something different again? He didn’t know. Maybe even the Master himself didn’t know. But the Doctor wasn’t about to take a gamble on anything as capricious as feelings.
“Look,” the Doctor leaned against the door frame, “here’s how it is. You get one chance - just like everyone else. We’ll sort out visits and playtimes and trips out, even. But try anything - a bribe here, some mind control there, a sneaky plan to steal the boy - anything... and that’s it.”
The Master tilted his head.
“What do you mean ‘that’s it’? I don’t get to see him anymore?”
The Doctor smiled coldly. “Not quite.” He reached inside a pocket, pulled out a mirror and tossed it to the Master.
“Ask her what I mean. She’s one of those who learned the meaning of ‘no second chances', and - unlike most of the others - lives to tell the tale.”
The Master held up the mirror, checking out his own reflection and flattening some of his hair, which was still somewhat in disarray; then looked up, clearly thrown.
“What am I supposed to do here? Is it some sort of riddle - seven years bad luck if I break it?”
“Keep looking. She’s there - right out of the corner of your eye... I’m sure you’ll catch her sooner or later.” The Doctor turned, hand on door handle. “I have things to do - enjoy your chat.”
It was several hours before he returned, but when he opened the door the Master immediately sat up, smiling widely.
“But look! It’s my favourite Doctor! The man who imprisoned a poor little girl for all eternity. Nasty business that, Doctor, very nasty. I think I might be impressed!”
“Good.” The Doctor caught his eyes and held them. “I trust you won’t waste your chance.”
“Aww...” The Master really did excel at mocking. “But I thought you forgave me everything!”
The was a long moment, then the Doctor answered, features immobile.
“I forgave. I didn’t forget.”
Part 4.