Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. :(
Debts
By Trinaluv33
~Prologue~
The Master shook his head in amusement and slung the weakened Doctor's arm over his shoulders, taking most of the injured Time Lord's weight as the two enemies made their way down the white-washed hallway. Barely conscious, the Doctor, sickly pale and sheened with sweat, clung desperately to his only life-line to the real world. If that life-line just so happened to be his mortal enemy, he didn't have the energy to care.
The Master studied his greatest enemy and oldest friend and noted that the man was quickly losing strength and was on the brink of unconsciousness. The Doctor's head rested weakly on the Master's shoulder, his blond hair brushing his neck. The evil Time Lord didn't know whether he should be amused, disgusted, or concerned.
Amused because of how fast the tables had turned, the Doctor now completely in his mercy. The Master could just as easily drop him in one of the hallways and leave via his TARDIS. Yet, for some reason which still puzzled the Master, he risked his own life to rescue the Doctor, when he had a perfect chance to escape. But here he was, dragging a semi-conscious Doctor in a cricket suit, a piece of celery sticking out of the breast pocket. The Master could almost laugh out loud.
However, a close second emotion to choose could be disgusted, because of the close proximity of his oldest enemy, and of the image the two Time Lords were projecting to any third party who might be observing them, an image of true companionship. The Master wouldn't be caught dead as a companion of the Doctor. It amazed him that no matter how many companions would leave the Doctor, he would soon acquire another, this one as trivial as the previous. The good radiated off of the Doctor whenever they met, and it sickened him. The Master could almost smell it even then. The Doctor's kindness only served to further aggravate the drumming in his head. Onetwothreefour onetwothreefour onetwothreefour.
And concerned... The Master nearly wanted to just ignore the last option and instead choose to kick the Doctor while he's down, but he couldn't avoid the annoying emotion that hid in the farthest region of his mind. He had spent such a long time knowing only pure hatred for the benevolent being known as the Doctor; the days they shared in the Academy seemed too far in the past to even have existed. Yet, those days did exist, and the Master would have to admit that they were unarguably the best days of his life. The thought that this pointless war with the Doctor could end in a blink of an eye sent an unfamiliar pain through the Master's blackened hearts. What would he be without the Doctor existing to challenge his wonderful evilness? His evil-filled life would be easy, and easy is boring. Looking down at the trembling Time Lord only served to further infuriate the Master. Who does the Doctor think he is, going around and risking his life- virtually serving his own head on a silver platter- without the slightest consideration towards the jeopardization of their long-fought feud? You're not getting out of it that easily, old friend.
The Master chose to express the first option, and sneered down at the Doctor. "Look at you now, Doctor. Seems that you're in my debt now." He chuckled at the thought. "You owe me your life, Doctor."
The Doctor failed to respond to the Master's signature laugh as he passed into an anything-but-blissful unconsciousness.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little prologue. I was looking for some good hurt/comfort stories about the Fifth Doctor and the Master, but failed to find any, which nearly broke my heart. But then I got over it and chose to just write one instead. This story idea has been stuck in my head since I started watching the Fifth Doctor's episodes, and I'm finally writing it.
Please review!
Luv Trinaluv:)