Viera :2: The Passing of Moments

by Caligo Origuu

The End of Time. With Rassilon, the Master, and the Gallifrey itself threatening Earth and all of time, will the added efforts of one companion make any difference at all?

1. 10:1 - The End of Time

[EDITED NOVEMBER 2018]

Part Ten – The End of Time

Soundtrack:

"The Approaching End" - Light At the End of the Tunnel by Kerry Muzzey

"Brilliance & Madness" - Architect of the Mind by Kerry Muzzey

"Empathy for the Devil" - Interlude (Track 11) by Judgment Day

"The Immortality Gate" - Lux Eternal by James Dooley

"The Essence of Lunacy" - Deathless by Epic Score

"The Time Lords" - Unfurled Sails by Epic Score

"Regeneration" - from High Above by Epic Score

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Time passed as a whirlwind of adventure. Despite the Doctor's professed reluctance to take on anyone new after losing Donna, he and Viera ended up with not one but two more traveling companions: an empathetic artist and her very spirited friend. They had extraordinary escapades across the stars, meeting beings made of emotion and of song, standing against hunters and ancient creatures so powerful that they had once been called gods. Through it all the bonds of friendship between them had grown strong, but eventually Gabby and Cindy had found their own places in the universe and left the TARDIS. Viera missed them terribly, but she couldn't help but wonder if it might be for the best. With every adventure that had passed, a feeling of dread grew, strengthened by the whispers of the Ood that rippled out across time and space.

It was time to stop running. It was time to face the prophesy.

Of course, just because the Doctor had finally resigned himself to meeting with the Ood, that didn't mean he wasn't determined to do it on his own terms.

"Are you really going to keep that on?" Viera asked, eyeing his getup. The pink lei that had been given to him as a gift from the island people of Naratoo clashed spectacularly with his suit. She didn't even know where he'd gotten the cowboy hat. Her smile spread into a grin as the Doctor spread his arms and looked down as though inspecting himself.

"What?" the Doctor asked, completely straight-faced.

Viera just shook her head. "Never mind. Shouldn't we get going? The Ood's song gotten so loud I've started hearing in my dreams. I… I really don't think we should keep them waiting any longer." She tried not to wince as all the humor vanished from the Doctor's expression for just a moment.

Blasted prophecy, she groused silently. The Doctor had hid it well for a long time, but he'd been more and more on edge since the Ood had started reaching out for him telepathically. Apparently the Ood had made a similar prophecy to the one Carmen had shared with them after their trip on the bus 200. Viera knew she shouldn't blame them for sharing what they knew, but she couldn't help feeling a little bit bitter about the fact that they wouldn't leave the Doctor alone. Who wants to see death coming? Who wouldn't go a bit mad feeling the end breathing down their neck?

Oddly enough, while part of her was angry with the psychics, she was also grateful.

She hated that the Doctor had to be feeling he was running out of time, staring down Death. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him to either death or regeneration, but at the same time, at least with the warning she had a chance to make plans. Mad, reckless plans that she didn't dare tell the Doctor about, but they were better than nothing- a desperately needed solace from the fear that haunted her.

She didn't know what she would do if she truly lost him.

"Alright. Allons-y!" the Doctor chirped, all traces of seriousness gone as quickly as they'd come. He threw open the door of the TARDIS and poked his head out. A rush of cold wind washed into the control room; Viera shivered and grabbed the thick coat hanging over the back of the bench before she followed the Doctor out into the snow- only to stop when she spotted what must be an Ood.

She had seem pictures of them, but it wasn't the same as meeting one face to face. Viera tried not to let her uneasiness show on her face. The Ood were kind, gentle creatures and it wouldn't do to let on that she found the tentacles rather creepy. It felt shallow to get caught up on their appearance, but she hadn't yet figured out how to control that.

"Ah, now. Sorry. There you are," the Doctor greeted, as though he'd been looking for the Ood instead of actively avoiding them. "Now, where were we? I was summoned wasn't I?" Viera followed behind him, watching her feet to avoid staring outright at the Ood, who said nothing. "Ood in the snow, calling to me. Well, I didn't exactly come straight here. Had a bit of fun."

Viera snorted. "If you call getting chased by a herd of rizoosh across burning-hot sands 'fun'," she said.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her. "Don't you?" Viera shook her head and failed to hold back a smile.

"I burned my feet," she scolded.

"I offered to give you a piggy-back ride."

That really shouldn't make her cheeks flush the way it did. It wasn't as though he'd never carried her before, but she'd found she was more and more aware of him whenever they touched. The Doctor didn't seem to notice and she preferred it that way. Really. Mostly. "Your feet were burned too," was all Viera could sputter. "And they would have caught up with us."

"Welll," the Doctor drew the word out, "we got here in once piece in the end. What do you want?" He turned his attention to the Ood.

"You should not have delayed," the Ood chided in a gentle, mechanical voice that seemed to come from the glowing sphere it held in its hand.

Viera immediately felt defensive, a byproduct of the sudden wave of guilt and worry the words provoked. "Why not? You know, if you needed us here at a certain time, you could have been less cryptic. Given us more of a hint if you needed us right away." Skipped telling the Doctor he was going to die. Or told me how to save him when I begged you in my dreams. Could you hear that? Your songs interrupted the nightmares I've had of watching helpless as he dies, but it never changed, not even when I demanded, screamed and begged for answers. Viera pressed her lips together as the Doctor took off his wide-rimmed cowboy hat and settled it on her head with a faint smile. She quieted.

"You will come with me," the Ood said, his serenity unbroken. If he could sense Viera's mood or thoughts, he gave no sign. Perhaps he wasn't that sort of psychic. At least I think he's a he.

"Hold on, better lock the TARDIS," the Doctor said. He pointed the sonic screwdriver behind him and the TARDIS beeped, flashed its light, then locked with an audible click. The Doctor gave a satisfied sigh. Viera shook her head. The Ood didn't react. "See, like a car," he explained. "I locked it like a car. It's funny." Still no response from the Ood. "No?" The Ood simply turned away and started walking. "Blimey, try to make an Ood laugh. You get it, right? That was funny," he said to Viera as they started walking through the snow.

"Oh, I get it. Just like a car," Viera said, tone deliberately patronizing.

"It was funny," the Doctor whined. That made her grin. "Come on. Admit it. It was a little bit funny."

"You're a very odd man, Doctor."

"Not as odd as an Ood," he couldn't help but quip. He winced. "Sorry. No offense," he told the Ood, who didn't seem to be paying attention to them anyways.

"Strangest man I know," Viera teased.

"Ah, well, that's why you like me."

Among other things. Viera shook her head and tried to ignore the faint flush that had returned to her cheeks. She reached to curl her hands around his arm since his hands were in the pockets of his coat. She felt steadier almost immediately. "I suppose you wouldn't be half so fun if you weren't a little bit strange," she admitted.

The Doctor grinned at her. There was silence for a few brief moments before the Doctor broke it again, plying the Ood with questions about his age and commenting on the tall towers and bridges of ice they came upon. Viera had to admit it was an incredible sight. She wished for a moment that she hadn't gotten so out of the habit of carrying her camera around.

We can come back. I'll make him bring me back here when this is all over. When we both survive.

"Splendid! You've achieved all this in how long?" the Doctor asked, thrilled with the growing civilization.

"One hundred years," Ood Sigma said.

"Then we've got a problem," the Doctor said, his enthusiasm waning. "Cos all of this is way too fast. Not just the city, I mean your ability to call me, to call us," he corrected, waving towards Viera with his free hand. "You reached all the way back to the 21st Century. Something is accelerating your species way beyond normal."

"And the Mind of the Ood is troubled," Sigma said.

"Why?" Viera asked, feeling a shiver of foreboding.

"Every night, Doctor. Every night, we have bad dreams," Sigma said, the weight of things to come echoing in his words.

Viera bit her lip and stepped a little closer to the Doctor as silence passed over them. Maybe we should have come sooner. No one said anything as Sigma lead them downwards to the mouth of a cave. A gathering of Ood waited there and the whisper of song Viera had been hearing since she stepped out from the TARDIS' protective shields grew stronger. Are they always singing? It wasn't a cheerful sound, if it was a sound at all. The song carried warnings that she couldn't understand clearly, though she felt them deeply.

She heard whispers as they walked closer. While she couldn't hear the words, Viera could feel their echoes making ripples at the back of her sensitive mind, feeding dread into her thoughts. She shifted uncomfortably, wishing they could turn their backs and leave, go back to adventures and running hand in hand.

"Sit with the Elder of the Ood," Sigma said. "And share the dreaming."

Must we? Viera sat next to the Doctor, never quite letting go of his arm. She knew the Doctor had some measure of telepathy and other senses she probably didn't know about; she wondered if he felt the sense of doom hovering over them as well.

"So. Right. Hello," the Doctor greeted, his usual cheerfulness somewhat subdued by the grim atmosphere. The Ood didn't seem to notice.

"You will join," the Elder said, echoed by the others. "You will join. You will join." All of the Ood in the circle laid their hind brains in their laps and began to join hands. The echoing voices reminded Viera a bit too much of the train ride on Midnight. She swallowed hard and stared at the Ood hand offered to her, dreading the necessity of sharing their terrible dreams.

"Perhaps it's best you sit this one out," the Doctor said quietly. His dark eyes were gentle when she turned to him. "You're sensitive to this already. It's all right. I've got it covered."

Viera's mouth set in firm lines and stubbornness eased away the choking fear. She wasn't going to let the Doctor face whatever it was alone. He was the one they'd said was ending. If she was scared, how must he feel? Viera firmly grabbed his hand before he could reach across her to the Ood on the other side, then more reluctantly laid her other hand in the Ood's.

Immediately there was a rushing sound in Viera's mind as the vision poured in, then her thoughts were filled with terrible laughter. Then she heard a gasp to her left and the Doctor's hand convulsed around hers. The vision stopped abruptly. Dazed, Viera opened her eyes to see that the Doctor had pulled away from the Ood, breaking the circle.

He looked stunned. Shaken, the way he had been when Donna had mentioned Rose that first time, but the hope that had been there then was absent. Who's laughter had that been?

"He comes to us. Every night," the Ood said. "I think all the peoples of the universe dream of him now."

"That man is dead," the Doctor said, eyes wide with disbelief.

"There is yet more," was all the Elder said, joining hands with his neighbors. "Join us."

The Doctor tightened his grip on Viera's hand without looking at her, then he took a deep breath and joined the circle once more. The vision washed in as overwhelming waves breaking across Viera's mind in time with the Elder Ood's words. And always, always there was laughter in the background.

"Events are taking shape. So many years ago and yet changing the now. There is a man. So scared." As the Elder spoke, Viera saw Wilf, a man she had only seen in Donna's pictures. His hands were clasped together as he sat alone, face lined deeply with worry.

"Wilfred," the Doctor murmured. "Is he alright? What about Donna? Is she safe?" he demanded hurriedly.

"You should not have delayed," the Elder said, drawing a flinch from Viera. "For the lines of convergence are being drawn across the Earth even now."

Is this how it always happens? In trying to escape a prophesy we fix it in place?

"The king is in his counting house." There was a vision of a rich black man and a younger woman that Viera didn't recognize.

"I don't know who they are," the Doctor said, just as confused.

"And there is another," the Ood continued. "The most lonely of all, lost and forgotten." Another vision, this one of a woman crying in a cell.

The Doctor's voice was quieter, regretful. This one he knew. "The Master's wife." The woman was shut away behind a metal door, and Viera felt the Doctor flinch at the clang.

"We see so much but understand little," the Ood said. That made Viera feel both better and worse. It was disconcerting to think that they didn't know much more than she did, but perhaps that meant they weren't withholding information and being cryptic on purpose. Perhaps they were saying all that they could and simply had to depend on them to figure it out. "The woman in the cage. Who is she?"

"Who's Master?" Viera added, unable to keep quiet. It sounded so odd to hear that title from the Doctor's lips.

"She was… It wasn't her fault," the Doctor explained softly. "He's so good at manipulating… He's the Master like I'm the Doctor. It's the name he chose," he told Viera. "He's, he was a Time Lord, like me but…" He was struggling his words for once, his usual tendency to ramble crushed by painful memories. The Doctor shook his head slightly. "Here. I can show you." Determination settled into his expression, then Viera felt a gentler wave of visions offered by him.

"The Master took the name of Saxon. He married a human, a woman called Lucy. And he corrupted her. She stood at his side while he conquered the Earth. I reversed everything he'd done, so it never even happened... but Lucy Saxon remembered. And she killed him. I held him in my arms. I burnt his body. The Master is dead," the Doctor insisted. Images accompanied the Doctor's words, memories and pain. Regret and so much loss. Viera's eyes filled with tears that didn't fall as she watched memories of a burning pyre. She didn't think he'd meant for her to see, but she felt that moment the Master died, felt the snap of the link between them and the sudden absence of the other Time Lord. Whatever else the Master had been, he was another Time Lord. For a while the Doctor had been one of the last instead of the only. To lose that all over again…

"And yet you did not see," the Elder said. Then he reached into the memory and urged it on to things even the Doctor hadn't known. A ring fell from the pyre and a hand reached to pick it up.

"What's that?" They could see the ring clearly. It was Gallifreyan. Viera didn't know what the symbols meant, but she'd seen similar ones around the TARDIS. Still connected to his mind, she could feel the Doctor's shock.

"Part of him survived," the Doctor murmured. Sudden urgency rushed to fill the void left by surprise. "We have to go!" He tried to stand, pulling Viera up with him so quickly she would have fallen backwards if he hadn't been holding her so tightly. The Ood didn't let go of either of them.

"But something more is happening, Doctor," the Elder said firmly. "The Master is part of a greater design. Because a shadow is falling over creation. Something vast is stirring in the dark." The Ood's eyes turned red. Frightened, Viera tried to pull away, but the Ood would not let go. "The Ood have gained this power to see through Time because Time is bleeding. Shapes of things once lost are moving through the veil. And these events from years ago threaten to destroy this future. And the present. And the past."

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked, finding his voice well before Viera.

"This is what we have seen, Doctor. The darkness heralds only one thing," the Elder said. The whispers at the back of Viera mind grew stronger and stronger until it felt like they were yelling, though she couldn't make out the words. Then the Ood all spoke at once. "The end of Time itself."

Viera gave a quiet whimper, shutting her eyes in a vain attempt to block out the echoes raging through her mind. With a startled hiss, the Doctor pulled away from the Ood and pulled Viera away as well. Abruptly the yelling subdued to whispers again, and Viera opened her eyes, breathing shakily. The Ood looked normal again; the red was gone.

"Alright?" the Doctor asked, sounding nearly as strained as Viera felt. His usual blustering confidence was gone. "Viera?"

"Yeah," she breathed, holding onto his arms with both hands to keep herself stable. "Yeah."

"We have to go," the Doctor said. "We have to go now."

"Yeah," Viera agreed complacently. Had her mind been clear she might have demanded more answers from the Ood, but as it was… The Doctor helped her to her feet and they started walking, then running towards the TARDIS as Viera's weakness passed. Then they were sprinting all out, urgency chasing at their heels and those awful words echoing in their thoughts.

"The darkness heralds only one thing; the end of Time itself."

"Your song is ending…"

They threw themselves into the TARDIS and the Doctor immediately began setting a course for Earth.

"How does time end?" Viera muttered mostly to herself as she shut the door behind her and went to help. She twisting a lever to the side as the Doctor rushed about on the other side of the control console.

"That one. There," the Doctor ordered, pointing urgently to a switch that had to be flipped at just the right time. Viera obeyed, trying to focus on helping to fly the TARDIS instead of the echoes of laughter she could still hear at the back of her thoughts.

"And what kind of name is 'the Master' anyways? Talk about control issues." She was just rambling, not really looking for answers. Viera couldn't help it. She was scared. The Doctor was scared and that usually meant it was time to start panicking. Rambling was her way of trying to deal with that. "Do you think- With the ring, I mean-" Viera bit her lip and looked up in time to meet the Doctor's eyes. "Could someone bring him back?"

There was hope buried in the worry of the Doctor's expression. It concerned Viera because stopping the Master might mean having make hard decisions, choosing between losing him or disaster. And the Doctor had already had to mourn him once.

"I don't know. Maybe. He's always been… resilient." He turned one of the cranks and reached for another lever, desperate to make the TARDIS go faster. One of the monitors sparked; Viera flinched and reached for another switch to try to smooth out the bucking of the time machine.

Then the Doctor paused, for a just a moment staring into space. He pulled himself out of it quickly and went back to flying the TARDIS, but some part of Viera knew what he had sensed.

"Doctor?" she asked quietly.

"We need to hurry," was all he would say. So she shut up and helped him drive. They landed moments later with a thump. Viera had to take a moment to recover her balance, but the Doctor was already to the door, flinging it open. She hurried to catch up, but it was unneeded. The Doctor had stopped a few yards away. He stood staring at the ruins of a building. The stones were charred, but there was no fire, no smoke, no heat. Whatever had happened, it hadn't been that recent.

We're running late again, aren't we? Viera thought, glancing over at the Doctor with worried hazel eyes. How is it that we're running late in a time machine? She followed the Doctor's gaze to a sign lying on the ground.

HM Prison Broadfell.

"Why are we here?" Viera asked.

"He was here," the Doctor replied quietly.

There could really only be one 'he', all things considered. "Is he- Can you feel him?" Viera wouldn't have known to ask except for the things she'd felt in his memories. She knew now that being alone in her own head, the silence she was used to felt like a vast, terrible emptiness to the Time Lord. To have even one presence back...

"Yes."

Viera didn't think she'd ever heard so many conflicting emotions in one word. She couldn't think of anything to say so she kept silent.

"Come on," the Doctor urged, apparently finding some sense of direction. He offered his hand and gave a smile. "Allons-y."

She took his hand and off they trotted, searching for the Master. Or rather, the Doctor searched. Viera just provided company. They ended up at the edge of a massive garbage dump on a cliff made of rubble.

The Doctor stared out over the wasteland. Then his head jerked to the side, hearing or sensing something that Viera couldn't. They took off running again without a word. A short distance later, Viera could hear the sound too. It was faint, at least to her human ears, but unmistakable. Drums, or something similar. Four beats and a pause. Four beats and a pause. The Doctor ran faster and Viera struggled to keep up. The beats stopped and they sprinted faster, up and over rubble and refuse. Faster and faster.

The Doctor stopped abruptly and Viera nearly ran into him. She panted, staring wide eyed at the blond man from the visions standing alone and very much alive on the hill ahead of them. The Master stared a moment too, then let out long scream, of challenge or anger she couldn't tell. The two Time Lords locked gazes, then the Master grinned, gave a terrible laugh, and leaped into the air.

Viera gasped as his jump took him to impossible heights. The ease of the action made her think of a flea leaping. Then the Master dropped out of sight behind the hill and the Doctor took off running again. She kept hold of his hand, but barely. Viera was in good shape, but she was still only human. The Doctor, and the Master presumably, had two hearts pumping oxygen through their veins.

It was a mercifully short run. The Master had the higher ground, standing on a pile of girders, but he was closer than before. He didn't seem to notice her at all, his challenging grin meant only for the Doctor. He laughed again, madness leaking into the sound. Then his flesh vanished; for the briefest moment Viera could see his skull, glowing faintly blue. She made a soft sound of surprise and felt the Doctor's hand tighten around hers.

What happened to him? Perhaps coming back to life hadn't gone as well as planned.

She wasn't surprised when the Doctor's first words weren't a challenge or a warning, but entreaty. The Master wasn't an ordinary threat. He wasn't an ordinary enemy. And it was just possible that made him more dangerous than even the Daleks and Osirians.

"Please, let me help!" the Doctor called. The Master gave him a look part exasperation, part disgust. He didn't want help. "You're burning up your own life force!"

The skull flashed and the Master laughed again, then took off running once more. Viera groaned as they sprinted after him. They nearly ran right into a familiar old man waving his arms. Viera let go of the Doctor's hand and tried to catch her breath as she stared a man she'd only seen in pictures. Wilf; Donna's grandfather.

The Doctor darted around Wilf and peered over the top of another pile of metal beams, but he must have lost track of the Master because he didn't hurdle over them to keep running. Instead, he turned, disappointment and confusion on his face.

Wilf wasn't alone. There were half a dozen or so senior citizens with him, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"Did we do it? Is that him?"

"Tall and thin. Big brown coat!"

"The Silver Cloak! It worked! Cos Wilf phoned Netty, who phoned June, and her sister lives opposite Broadfell, and she saw the police box, and her neighbor saw this man heading east," a white-haired woman rambled. They were all studying the Doctor, looking quite pleased with themselves.

"The Silver Cloak?" Viera asked, still breathing hard.

"Wilfred," the Doctor leaned closer to scold in low tones. "Have you told them who I am? You promised me-"

"No, just said you're a doctor, that's all," Wilf assured. "And might I say, sir, it is an honor to see you again." Then he saluted.

Viera grinned. She'd liked him already from bits and pieces she'd heard from Donna, but he really was a peach. She watched the frustration melt reluctantly from the Doctor's expression, then he gave a wry smile and returned the salute. Yes, she definitely liked Wilf.

"Never said he was a looker," the white-haired woman said. "He's gorgeous. Take a photo!"

"Not bad, is he? Me next!" said the man who had accepted her camera phone.

The Doctor looked decidedly uncomfortable as the whole group crowded around him. He gave Viera a pleading look, but she just grinned at him and went to stand by Wilf. A bit of socializing wouldn't hurt him. And she wasn't ready to run off again just yet.

"Hello," she greeted Wilf as the group took their pictures. She stuck out her hand. "I'm Viera. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, yes," Wilf said, faltering a bit. He shook her hand and gave a slightly strained smile. "I suppose you're his new- er, companion."

Viera wasn't sure whether he was worried that she didn't know the truth about the Doctor or disappointed that the Doctor had replaced Donna with her. As though anyone could replace Donna. "Not entirely new. I knew Donna. I was with them when…" When everything fell apart. She trailed off, watching a matching grief darken Wilf's expression. She wanted to ask about Donna, but the Doctor had apparently had quite enough of socializing.

"All right!" he raised his voice to be heard over the chatter of the group. Viera offered another cheeky grin when he narrowed brown eyes at her. "We really are quite busy. Pressing matters to attend to. Really should be going."

"I need to talk to you," Wilf insisted. The Doctor eyed him a moment, glanced a bit longingly in the direction the Master had disappeared, then nodded his agreement. "There's a nice quiet cafe down the road a ways. Come on."

The group continued chatting as they walked back towards the road. They'd taken quite a liking to the Doctor and kept him occupied the whole way. Viera walked by Wilf, listening to him explain the Silver Cloak.

"Why did you need to find him so badly?" she asked. "Is Donna all right?"

"Oh, yes. She's… fine. Quite all right. It's, well, we'll have to talk about it somewhere else, I think," Wilf replied. They'd reached the road. Viera was quite relieved when they started filing in to a white mini-bus. She hadn't really wanted to walk to the cafe after all that running.

The bus was plenty big enough for the small ground, but they made it crowded by all flocking to the Time Lord. The Doctor managed to wedge himself onto a seat with Viera, between her and the window. It amused her to be used as a shield, though she could hardly keep the group from leaning over the seats behind and in front of them and incessantly talking to the Doctor.

She was honestly rather impressed that he managed to keep from being too rude.

The bus ride was quick and noisy. The Doctor all but fled from the mini-bus, but Viera turned and waved cheerfully. The group waved back, calling farewells and "Merry Christmas!" She hadn't realized until just that moment that it was the holiday season again, despite there being decorations everywhere. Living in a time machine really mixed her up. Wonder what day it is. Wonder what year it is.

"Here we go. Hurry up!" Wilf urged, ushering the Doctor and Viera into the cafe.

"What's so special about this place?" the Doctor asked. "We passed fifteen cafes on the way."

Wilf laughed off the question instead of really answering.

"Cafe with the best pastries?" Viera guessed lightheartedly, eyeing the display of sweets under the counter with ill-disguised longing as they walked into the dining area. The cafe was quiet, nearly deserted. Perhaps it was the time of day. Viera couldn't tell where the sun was in the sky with all the cloud cover.

Wilf bought Viera a pastry, as neither she nor the Doctor were carrying money. She declined once, but he insisted and the blueberry strudel looked too good to pass up. Then they settled down at a table and waited for Wilf to explain.

"We had some good times though, didn't we?" Wilf said, rambling nervously. "Those ATMOS things. And those planets in the sky! Me with that paint gun, and…" He trailed off as the Doctor just watched him. Viera watched them both, still eating.

"I keep seeing things, Doctor," Wilf finally got the point. "This face, at night." He sounded worried. The Ood had said all people of the universe would dream of him.

"Does he laugh in your dreams?" Viera asked quietly. Wilf turned a startled gaze her way, then nodded.

"This awful, mad laughter. It keeps echoing in my thoughts."

"Yeah," Viera agreed, thinking of blue skulls and impossible leaps.

"Who are you?" the Doctor demanded out of the blue. They both turned his way, but he was looking at Wilf.

Wilf drew himself up defensively. "I'm Wilfred Mott."

"No, but people have waited hundreds of years to find me. Then you manage it in a couple of hours," the Doctor mused, his voice distant as it often got when the answer to a puzzle was just barely out of reach.

"Just lucky I suppose," Wilf said.

"No, we keep on meeting, Wilf. Over and over again like something's still connecting us."

"Fate?" Viera asked, wondering what he was getting at. She believed they were all part of a grand design, but she hadn't thought the Doctor did.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted slowly.

"What's so important about me?" Wilf asked.

"Exactly. Why you?" There was silence for several moments. Everyone was lost in thoughts. Then the Doctor spoke up again, abruptly. "I'm going to die."

Viera froze then forced herself to swallow the bit of pastry that suddenly felt like a lump in her throat. She set down the remained, her appetite gone, and slipped her hands beneath the table to hide their shaking. They'd avoided the subject of his death. Viera hadn't wanted to think about it and it had seemed like the Doctor didn't want to either. It should have occurred to her that maybe he needed to talk about it.

Wilf didn't quite grasp what he was saying, or simply didn't want to. "Well. Me too, one day."

"Don't you dare," the Doctor replied, a ghost of humor showing itself briefly. It was quickly washed away by the pain and fear they'd been avoiding so long. The Doctor looked away, trying to keep his calm facade.

Viera swallowed, her throat tight. He can't. You can't let that happen. Not now. Not yet. God please…

"Well, I'll try not to," Wilf replied, trying to laugh. He took in the Doctor's serious expression and the fear Viera was struggling to hide, and sobered quickly.

"But I was told, 'he will knock four times'. That was the prophecy. Knock four times and then…"

No. Viera bit her lip to keep the words silent. Her knuckles turned white as her hands clenched into fists. You're not allowed to die.

"Excuse me," she choked out. She was standing before she'd realized she meant to. "I have to- I'll be right back." Then Viera retreated to the bathroom without looking at either of them.

She was crying by the time she got there. Viera ducked her head to keep the tears from being seen as she slipped past another woman. The bathroom was thankfully empty. Viera leaned against the wall and let herself cry a moment longer before she tried to get ahold of herself.

Coward, she scolded herself. He needed to talk and you couldn't handle it so you ran. Some companion you are. Viera frowned halfheartedly at the mirror, frustrated and aching inside. She couldn't bear hearing the Doctor talk about death, not when it felt so close. Viera turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. No. He's not allowed to die. To hell with the prophecy. There has to be some way to save him. Though that'll be hard to do if you keep hiding in bathrooms. Viera took a deep breath and dried her face before studying herself in the mirror again. I won't let him die. Determination wavered and shifted into supplication again. Please. Let me save him. Don't let him die.

When she went back to the table both men were staring out the window. Viera followed their gazes but didn't see a thing besides a car driving away.

"Everything okay?" she asked carefully.

"You just missed Donna," the Doctor said, voice carefully unreadable.

"What?" Viera gasped, feeling a deep pang. She looked out the window but of course she was gone.

"Sorry," Wilf sighed. "She was just picking up her man from work."

"She's dating someone?" Viera asked, trying to imagine what sort of person that might be. He'd better be good to her.

"Engaged," Wilf replied. Seeing the conflict in Viera's expression. "He's nice enough."

Donna deserves better than 'nice enough'. She deserves wonderful, extraordinary. She deserves someone who sees just how amazing she is and reminds her of it every chance he gets. Viera bit her lip and looked back out the window. We were so close. We were so close. We can't even talk to her. The Doctor saw her and he couldn't even say anything. She sidled closer to the Doctor until her hand brushed against his shoulder. It was great to know that Donna was happy, but it hurt to have such a vivid reminder of what they'd lost, and Viera hadn't even seen her.

The Doctor took her hand and stood, taking a deep breath. "We should really be going. We have things to do."

"A madman to stop," Viera added, leaning on him a little and managing a slight smile for Wilf.

"A world to save," said the Doctor.

"Again," Viera said.

Wilf stood as well, still looking worried.

"It was very nice to meet you," Viera said honestly. Her smile came a bit easier. "I'm sure we'll see you again." The Doctor nodded to Wilf, then tugged her away.

It was time to find the madman.

They went back to the wasteland of junk and ruin. The Doctor seemed sure of where he was going, pausing once in a while to get his bearings but never changing direction.

"Do you have a plan?" Viera asked. The Doctor looked at her and raised his eyebrows. She shook her head and gave a quiet laugh. "I suppose we'll just wing it then."

"We do some of our best work that way," the Doctor said jovially. They kept walking.

"Doctor," Viera started carefully a moment later. "You know it's… It's hard to save someone who doesn't want to be saved." She glanced over to see his expression set in a mask of solemnity. "He's dangerous, isn't he?" It wasn't really a question. It was just, Viera knew the Doctor did a lot of impossible things, but she didn't want him to die trying to accomplish this one. He couldn't always save everyone. She didn't want him trying to save the Master at the cost of his own life.

Not that she thought she could stop him. Not really. She wasn't surprised when he spoke.

"I have to save him. I have to try," the Doctor said. He stopped walking to turn to her. "You don't have to do this. It is going to be risky. The Master is incredibly dangerous; he's a brilliant, unstable megalomaniac. If you want to sit this one out-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Viera interrupted. "I'm not worried about me." The Doctor stilled briefly and Viera sighed, squeezing his hand. "I'm not going anywhere. I just don't want…" Her mind went blank at the thought and she trailed off.

"I have to try," the Doctor repeated. "And if I can't- If I can't save him, I have to stop him. I don't know what he's planning, but he always has a plan and it's never good."

"We have to try. We have to save him," Viera corrected softly. A bright, honest smile flashed across the Doctor's face, and it warmed her to her toes. She smiled back. "And stop him, preferably."

The Doctor nodded and they started walking again.

"Is it because he's a Time Lord or because he's 'the Master'?" Viera wondered. She could remember the Doctor's grief quite vividly. It had seemed awfully strong to be born of only loneliness.

"Ah, now that's a complicated question," the Doctor replied quietly.

Viera looked at him. "Did you know him?"

"More or less. We were friends once, a very, very long time ago. When we were young."

She hadn't quite expected that. She tried to imagine the Master and the Doctor as children. "Were you troublemakers?" was the first thought that came to mind.

The Doctor gave a surprised laugh, shaken out of his melancholy. He grinned at her. "Oh yes." Then they paused, staring at the partial shell of an abandoned building. The Doctor let go of her hand and stepped forward. "Stay here," he ordered.

"What? No." The refusal slipped out before she'd thought about it, surprising Viera almost as much as the Doctor, but she decided to stick to it. "I just said I wasn't going anywhere. Besides, he didn't even notice me last time." And I'm not the one with a death prophesy hanging over my head.

"Viera…" the Doctor tried.

"We have to stop him, remember?" Viera asked. The Doctor sighed and nodded.

"Alright, but be careful."

"You too."

"Stay behind me," he said. Fond exasperation made her shake her head, but she did as he said, staying partially hidden behind him as they rounded the corner. The Master was there. He stood and turned towards them, again seeming not to notice Viera at all. The Doctor motioned Viera to stay back as he slowly walked forward.

Viera watched electricity crackle over the surface of the Master's hands and her eyes widened. The Doctor just kept walking. The Master's skull flashed into view as he flung out a hand, sending a hissing blue stream of power towards the Doctor. It missed him, tearing into a wooden crate they'd passed. It burst into flames. The Master tried again, and that time Viera had to leap out of the way. She ducked and rolled as she hit the dirt, feeling a blast of heat at her back. There were more flames, but she was out of harm's way. Viera looked up to see that the Doctor had turned towards her with worried eyes.

"I'm fine!" she snapped. "Turn around!" He had his back to the Master, and the other Time Lord's aim was getting better. The Doctor turned back around as the Master rubbed his hands together, calling up more energy.

The Doctor didn't even try to dodge. The Master flung both hands towards him, energy streaming from his palms. Viera watched it hit the Doctor square in the chest and he jerked with the impact.

"No!" she yelped, scrambling to her feet. She raced to the Doctor's side and instinctively reached for the coursing blue energy. Viera hissed as the power burned her palm before sliding safely into the channels carved into her body and her being. The power tasted like heat and blood and the thick tang of dying. She heard drums and laughter echo in the back of her thoughts for just a moment. Then the stream stopped.

The Master stopped and stared at her. He looked shocked and peculiarly offended. His expression would have amused Viera greatly if the Doctor hadn't slumped against her just then. She put an arm around his waist and let him lean on her, grateful that he still had the strength to mostly keep his feet. They were vulnerable enough as it was.

What the hell was that anyways? Viera glanced warily at the Master, but she couldn't resist the urge to place her free hand on the Doctor's chest, needing to know how badly he was hurt. There didn't seem to be much surface damage. His shirt was a bit burnt but not torn. His hearts were pounding loudly enough that she could feel the faint vibrations through his chest. It had obviously weakened him, but his hearts at least seemed to be fine.

"I'm all right," the Doctor murmured, panting softly. She looked up to see that his gaze hadn't left the Master. Viera frowned at his dismissal of the attack, but didn't comment. It wasn't the time to fuss over him. She'd do that later.

The power still hummed deep in her body. It left a bad taste in her mouth and Viera wanted to send it out through her feet into the ground, but she didn't dare. They might need it. If he tried anything again, she'd see how well the Master liked getting fried with his own energy. She glared at him as his eyes narrowed at her.

"I see you found a new pet. What happened to the last ones? Lost them, did you?" the Master spat at the Doctor. His gaze flickered to Viera, turning calculating. "What is she? Not human."

He sounded so sure and the Doctor tensed. Viera blinked. Of course I'm human. Not an ordinary anymore but… I am human, aren't I? She wondered briefly how one defined "human", then brushed the question aside. Does it really matter?

"I'm as human as you are Time Lord," she retorted irritably. "What's wrong with you anyways?"

"Ooo, the kitten has teeth," the Master taunted, baring his own teeth in an angry parody of a smile. "You should be more respectful. I'm very, very hungry."

Viera stiffened at that, and the Doctor spoke up, trying to pull the Master's attention back to him. "Something went wrong with your resurrection, didn't it? That energy… Your body's ripped open. Now you're killing yourself."

The Master wasn't really listening, his focus drifting to the distance. "But that Human Christmas out there, they eat so much! All roasting meat. Cakes and wine. Hot salt bites and all that fat blood food pots and pits, flesh-" he rambled.

"Stop it," the Doctor said. Viera felt a creeping sense of horror as the Master just kept ranting, louder and faster, mad desperation driven by a terrible hunger leaking through the words. "Stop it," the Doctor demanded again. She could hear the same horror in his voice. "Stop it!"

The Master finally stopped, covering his face with his hands and turning briefly away. A unwanted surge of pity hit Viera as they watched him struggle for control.

"What if I asked you for help?" the Doctor asked. That got him both Viera's attention and the Master's. That wasn't a tactic she'd expected. The Master stared a moment, then gave an incredulous laugh. "There's more at work tonight than you and me. I've been told something is returning."

"And here I am," the Master said, beginning to lose interest.

"No, it was something more," the Doctor argued.

"But it hurts."

"I was told, the End of Time-"

"It hurts," the Master interrupted. He stepped closer and Viera tried to take a step back, but the Doctor wouldn't move. He kept staring at the other Time Lord as he staggered forward. "Doctor, the noise. The noise in my head. Doctor, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four. Stronger than ever before." He was nearly within reach, and Viera was stiff with tension.

"I don't understand. What noise?" Viera asked, gaze darting between the Doctor and the Master.

"It isn't real," the Doctor said gently, compassion coating every word. "You're imagining the drumbeats."

"No!" the Master snapped. Anger twisted his expression, then something almost pleading. "It's real! It's- Can't you hear it, Doctor?"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor replied honestly.

"No, but listen, listen, listen, listen. Every minute, every second, every beat of my hearts, there it is, calling to me. Please listen-" the Master begged, stepping closer. Viera was scared. He was just too close. She tried to step back again, but the Doctor wouldn't budge and she wasn't willing to let him go.

"I can't hear it," the Doctor repeated.

It was there, in the back of Viera's mind, beneath the buzzing of the energy still coiled in her system. Deep beneath the taste of decay and mingled with the sound of mad laughter, there was a beat. Drumbeats.

Four beats. Like four knocks on a door.

She didn't want them to be real, and she certainly didn't want the Doctor to hear them. But it was too late. The Master reached for the Doctor, who refused to pull away.

"Don't," Viera said, unheeded.

"Listen," the Master said at the same time. He pressed his forehead against the Doctor's and for just a moment all was still. Then the Doctor recoiled with a gasp, nearly pulling himself and Viera off balance. She staggered and steadied him as he stared at the Master in shock.

"But that's-" he tried.

"What?" the Master demanded.

"I heard it. But there's no noise. There's never been. It's just your insanity, it's not…" the Doctor rambled, sounding horrified. Viera couldn't name the expressions flitting across the Master's face as he took a few steps back, bringing his hands up to his head like he didn't know what to do with them. "What is it?" the Doctor demanded. "What's inside your head?"

The Master started laughing, delighted at first. "It's real." Then madness crept back in, desperation fast on its heels. "It's real! It's real!" the Master screamed to the sky. With that, the Master blasted energy from his palms, using the power to shoot himself high out of reach then out of sight.

"Come on!" the Doctor barked, pulling away from Viera's support. He staggered a couple steps but quickly found his feet. They raced after the Master, worry scrambling at Viera's thoughts.

Why did it have to be four?

They chased the Master again, only stopping when they spotted him standing atop a pile of rubble.

"All these years. You thought I was mad!" the Master accused, pointing at the Doctor.

You are mad, Viera thought.

"King of the wasteland! But something is calling me, Doctor. What is it? What is it? What is it?!" the Master shouted. A spotlight beamed down from the night sky, burning through the darkness to illuminate the Master. They all looked up to see a slowly lowering helicopter.

"You've got to be kidding me," Viera breathed. What on earth is going on?!

The Master opened his arms to the light. Another spotlight lit up the Doctor and Viera. Ropes dropped down from the helicopter and men covered in black followed. They grabbed the Master and injected him with something that made him go limp.

"Don't!" the Doctor shouted, racing forwards as the men in black began to hook a harness around the other Time Lord. Viera followed, only to yelp and scramble backwards as bullets tore up the ground in front of them. The Doctor kept running, trying to get to the Master, but Viera couldn't make herself follow. The sound of more gunshots ripped through the quiet of the night. The Master was raised into the air as the Doctor scrambled up the pile of rubble, too far away to reach him. A man with a gun jogged up behind him. Then finally, Viera found she could move.

"Let him go!" commanded the Doctor. Viera darted forward as the man behind him raised his gun, aiming the butt of it at the base of Doctor's skull.

"Don't!" Viera yelped, still at the base of the pile. There were more armed men around her, intent on subduing them both. It was instinct more than anything that made her reach for the energy she'd stored. Madness, decay and drumbeats teased the edges of her thoughts as the bright blue power shot from her hands in a shower of thin streams of light. She tried to hold it back, to control it, but it wasn't her power and came with no intention of being tamed. The light struck the men around her and they crumpled. The power was used up in moments, and Viera was left standing there, staring at the men she'd felled with a detached sense of horror. Are they dead? Have I killed them?

The man behind the Doctor hesitated at the flare of light, distracted. The Doctor turned as well, just in time to catch the gun before it could crash into his head. They struggled over the weapon, each trying to wrestle it away from the other as the blue light behind them died away. The helicopter hovered a moment longer, then a shot rang out from above. The bullet drove into the ground near the Doctor and he jumped back, letting go of the gun. The man he'd been struggling with turned the gun on him.

For just a moment it looked like he might fire. Then a rope dropped down from the sky. The man glanced at his fallen comrades but reached for the rope. He kept the gun trained on the Doctor long enough to hook himself to the rope, then he was pulled into the sky and out of sight.

The Doctor gave a frustrated growl but quickly turned his attention to his companion.

Viera knelt next to one of the fallen men. Her hand shook as she reached to check his pulse and she hesitated. What if it wasn't there? What if she'd really just murdered half a dozen men? She hadn't meant to. She'd just wanted them to stop.

The Doctor's hand on her shoulder made her jump. Viera looked over; his kind expression made her eyes water, and she shook just a little bit harder.

"It's all right," the Doctor said softly. He reached out and turned the stranger over so he was lying on his back. "They're still breathing." Viera took a deep breath as relief washed through her. She could see the rise and fall of the man's chest. The Doctor scanned him with his screwdriver, then turned to briefly scan the others lying unconscious around them. "They'll be fine, though I imagine they'll all have headaches when they wake.."

He stood, pulling her up with him. Then he turned back towards the sky, frustration and worry twisting his expression. The helicopters were long gone.

"Who was that?" Viera asked. She felt lost. If those people had wanted to kill the Master, he'd have been dead. If they'd been working for him, why knock him out? So what did they want with him?

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted. His voice was calm and hard and certain as time. It raised goose bumps along Viera's skin. "But we're going to find out."

He started walking at a fast pace. Viera studied him a moment, then jogged a few steps to catch up. He seemed completely recovered from the Master's attack, or at least well enough to hide any weakness he felt.

"Then what? What are we going to do when we find him?" Viera asked. She saw the Doctor's expression tighten and kept talking, not wanting him to think she was having second thoughts. "I know we have to save him, but how? Even if- Once we've gotten him back from whoever that was, how do we fix what he's done to himself?" Especially when he doesn't seem to want it fixed? The Doctor's fierce expression relaxed into troubled thoughtfulness.

"If he had some way of fixing it himself, he probably would have gone after it already," the Doctor murmured, thinking aloud. Viera kept quiet and let him. "It's his body that's failing; it can't keep his life-force intact. It's spilling out all over the place. Maybe there's a way to patch that up. But what if there isn't? There have been more than three hundred races that didn't have conventional physical forms. At least one of them has to have found a way-"

They were nearly to the TARDIS when the Doctor glanced over at Viera and stiffened. "That's it!" he shouted, breaking into a run for the last few yards. He flung the door of the police box open and darted inside, still talking more to himself than his companion. Viera rushed after him, barely taking the time to close the door behind her. She followed his voice deeper into the TARDIS, past their rooms and the wardrobe and the massive swimming pool that only showed up on Tuesdays. She found him rummaging around in a room full of knickknacks. "-Had to confiscate it from a troop of Sontarans trying to find a way to turn it into a weapon." His voice was muffled as he dug into a pile of items, tossing things out of the way behind him.

"Ah-ha!" the Doctor exclaimed. He reappeared looking ruffled but triumphant and holding up a rectangular object barely two feet tall. There were runes etched into the black surface. Viera stepped closer to get a better look at them, and her eyes widened in surprise. One hand drifted up to touch the Obetovat hanging around her neck. "The Vodivost were known for more than just jewelry," the Doctor proclaimed, grinning.

The runes were in the same language that was etched around Viera's stone.

"It's really meant to be a prison of sorts," the Doctor explained, using his screwdriver to fiddle with the box. "And it's not meant for Time Lords of course, but if rearrange the sequence of absorbent cells inside-" The Doctor quickly lapsed into a lot of technical babble that Viera didn't understand.

She waited until he'd started to trail off before interrupting. "So that will hold his energy, his life force. Theoretically. Then what?"

"Well, it's possible that we can do something to save his current body," the Doctor said reluctantly.

"But not likely?" Viera asked, filling in the blanks.

"We'll figure something out," he brushed aside her doubtful tone quickly.

"Like what? Stick his spirit in a computer? A new body?" Would he still be a Time Lord if he had an artificial body?

"Something. Anything." The Doctor straightened and leaned back against the wall to meet Viera's eyes. She forgot sometimes just how old he was. With the way he practically bounced around most of the time, his fast grins, and how much he liked running, the only place she ever saw his age was looking in his eyes. He had such ancient eyes. "The box can keep his mind, his spirit alive indefinitely. It'll give us time to find a way to save him."

He needed the Master to survive.

"All right," Viera agreed quietly. She hadn't meant to poke holes in his plans, she just wanted to know they had options. But maybe what he needed was her support in his crazy venture. There were still a couple questions that needed answering. "How do we get him into the box?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Well, see, that's the tricky part. With all the adjustments there's no way to keep the imprisonment protocols. He has to go in voluntarily."

"Oh. That'll be fun."

"I'm sure he'll see that it's the best chance he has." The Doctor sounded confident, but he wasn't able to banish the worry from his eyes.

Right, because he's been so reasonable so far. Viera pushed the doubts away, reminding herself of all the impossible things they'd done already. Maybe if she could just believe hard enough that things would be alright, they would be. They'd save the Master and escape the prophecy, or perhaps discover that it hadn't been about the Doctor's death at all. There was power in faith; she knew that. She had to believe.

"How do we find him?"

The Doctor grinned and beckoned her out of the room. "We're going to see a friend."

A short trip later had them parked in a familiar spot, just outside of Donna's house.

"What are we doing here? I thought we were supposed to stay away from Donna," Viera said.

The Doctor waved her question aside. "We'll only be a moment. We have to talk to Wilf. Come on."

They stepped out onto the street. The Doctor scooped up a little stone which he hurled at one of the windows.

"What if Wilf's not the one that comes to the window?"

Fortunately he was, and quick enough that the Doctor didn't have to come up with a response. He waved at him wildly until Wilf disappeared from the window again. Donna's grandfather didn't look terribly pleased to see them.

"You can't park there. What if Donna sees it?!"

Again, the Doctor ignored the objection, hurriedly pushing forward to their reason for coming. "We lost him, the Master. He's still on earth, I can smell him, but he's too far away."

Smell him, Viera wondered, wrinkling her nose. Really? Is that because the Master's a Time Lord or can the Doctor track anyone like that? The image of the Doctor on all fours sniffing at footprints wearing one of those knitted hats with floppy dogs ears popped into her head, and she stifled a grin.

"What's that got to do with me?" Wilf asked, confused.

"You're the only one, Wilf, the only connection I can think of. You're involved, if I could just work out how… Tell me, have you seen anything, I don't know, anything strange, anything odd?"

Wilf hesitated, a strange look coming over his expression. "There was…"

He trailed off and the Doctor pushed for more. "What? What is it? Tell me!"

"Well it was… No it was nothing," Wilf said. He dismissed whatever memory had occurred to him with a shake of his head, but it had to have been something or he wouldn't have brought it up.

"What is it? What were you about to say?" Viera asked. "Sometimes it's the odd little things that end up being most important."

"Well, Donna was a bit strange," Wilf admitted. "She had a funny little moment, this morning, all because of that book."

"What book?" the Doctor latched on to that idea.

"This book…" Wilf looked a bit flustered. "Oh, I don't know. I'll go get it."

"We'll come too," said the Doctor, a little more enthusiastic at the possibility of a lead.

"Just stay out of sight. You're the one who said Donna couldn't see you." Wilf snuck into the house and the two of them waited by the door, pressed against the wall to avoid the nearest windows.

"Why Donna?" Viera asked when they were alone again. We're so close. She's just inside. Just a few yards away. What I wouldn't give to hear her teasing the Doctor again. "I mean, she's supposed to be done with this, right?"

"I don't know."

Wilf returned quickly and pushed the book at the Doctor.

"His name's Joshua Naismith-" Wilf started. There on the cover was a black man Viera had seen just the day before, though not with her own eyes.

"That's the man!" the Doctor exclaimed, clearly as startled as she was.

"What man?" Wilf asked.

"He was in this vision…" Viera found herself at a loss to explain and shook her head. "I don't understand. What's he got to do with anything? Who is he?" Viera turned the book over, though it remained in the Doctor's hands. "Fighting the Future." Is that meant to mean something? She skipped over the critics' ravings for the book to read the synopsis. It wasn't terribly helpful. Mr. Naismith was a businessman. Rich, sure, but why was he important?

The Doctor didn't explain it in any way she could understand. "It's all part of the convergence, maybe touching Donna's subconscious. Oh, she's still fighting for us, even now! The DoctorDonna!" He gave a lopsided grin, fondness tainted with a touch of sorrow.

And then Donna's mother walked out, talking absently. Viera hadn't met her, but boy had she heard an earful about her. She stepped back, leaving the Doctor to face her. Her pleasant expression vanished when she spotted him.

"You! But… Get out of here!" she demanded.

The Doctor swallowed. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Silvia returned automatically. "But she can't see you. What if she remembers?!"

As though summoned by her mother's words, Donna's voice called from inside the house. "Mum! Where are those tweezers?"

It made Viera's heart ache. She stared at the open door, longing to see Donna walk through it despite knowing that was a terrible idea.

"Just go!" Silvia ordered.

"I'm going," the Doctor SAID, turning abruptly.

"Me too," Wilf echoed. He followed the Doctor quickly, Silvia fast on his heels.

"Oh no you don't," she scolded.

Viera couldn't make herself move. She could hear footsteps approaching, but she wanted so badly to see Donna again- even just a glimpse. She wanted to see for herself that her friend was really all right. Her last memory of her was Donna sobbing.

"Come on," the Doctor's whispered hiss jolted her out of her thoughts. He grabbed her hand and tugged her around the corner and out of sight. She heard Donna's voice behind them.

"Mum? Gramps?"

"I'm sorry," Viera said when they were past the garden gate. I almost let her see me. What if she'd remembered? I could have hurt her or- or forced the Doctor to make her forget all over again. How selfish could I be? "I'm sorry." She could see Wilf circling the TARDIS, trying to hide from Silvia who kept following him around it, scolding him.

The Doctor squeezed her hand, empathy clearing his expression for just a moment before they reached the others. Then he was his normal, jovial self again.

"We've got to be off," he said, pushing gently past Silvia. Wilf stepped closer and the Doctor gave him a look. "You can't come with."

"You're not leaving me with her," Wilf hissed.

"I heard that," Silvia growled.

"Fair enough," the Doctor agreed.

"You stop right there!" Silvia demanded as they slipped inside. Viera gave her a sympathetic look but hurried in herself. "Dad! You just listen to me! I forbid this! Do you hear me?" Silvia pushed her way in before the door could close, the froze, open-mouthed and silent.

"Oh no," the Doctor said. "No, no, no, no, no. You can't be in here. We're full up. Go on." He carefully nudged her back out of the door. She was too surprised to argue. "That's it. Nice seeing you. We'll be off now."

"But- That's-" Silvia stuttered, staring through the open door until it shut in her face. Viera could hear her regain her voice as the TARDIS started to take off. "Wait a minute! Open this door! Doctor! Give me back my father!" Her yells soon faded away.

The Doctor's attention was on the controls and the book with Naismith's picture. He darted around the console like there was fire at his heels. "If I can just track him down…"

Viera was watching Wilf's reaction to the inside of the TARDIS. He was just staring at the moment, not saying anything. She smiled, remembering very clearly how awe inspiring it had been, seeing the ship for the first time.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Viera asked.

The Doctor leaned around the console. "Ah, right. Yes. Bigger on the inside," he supplied, grinning. "Do you like it?"

"I thought it would be cleaner," Wilf managed to tease.

"Cleaner?!" The Doctor gave an offended exclamation. "I could take you back home right now!"

Wilf regained his bearings quickly. "Listen, Doctor, if this is a time machine, that man you're chasing… Why can't you just pop back to yesterday and catch him?"

"I can't go back inside my own timeline. I've got to stay relative to the Master within the causal nexus, do you understand?"

"Not a word," Wilf replied.

Viera tilted her head. "You know, that almost made sense to me. Should I be worried?"

The Doctor grinned at her and pranced over to thump them both on the back. "Undoubtedly," he said before turning to Wilf. "Welcome aboard!"

"We're all mad here," Viera quoted wryly under her breath.

"Oh yes!" agreed the Time Lord.

A short trip later, the TARDIS landed with its usual jolt. Viera caught Wilf's arm to steady him as he stumbled.

"Is it always this rough?" the older man asked.

"That's half the fun!" the Doctor said.

"In other words, yes," Viera translated with a smile. She patted the TARDIS console, feeling the hum of its song beneath her skin. She thought the TARDIS enjoyed the haphazard flights as much as the Doctor did, if it was sentient enough to consider such things. It was hard to tell; the TARDIS didn't communicate with words. There was only ever the ebb and flow to the song. Viera thought it felt pleased, but perhaps that was just her own emotions spilling over.

The three of them stepped out of the ship and Wilf looked around in awe, taking in the barn they'd landed in. "We've moved! We've really moved!"

It was exhilarating to watch him experience it all for the first time. It reminded Viera of all she had felt on her first time, reminded her just how incredible it really was. She wondered if that was part of the reason why the Doctor took on companions: to see the world through new eyes again.

That, and the TARDIS would seem awfully empty with only one person wandering its halls. The memory of how silence felt in the Doctor's head was bad enough; with silence all around him the loneliness would surely be almost unbearable.

"You should stay here-" the Doctor tried to tell Wilf, distracting Viera from the melancholy shift in her thoughts. It was a silly thing to worry about. The Doctor wasn't alone; he had Wilf for the moment and her as long as he could stand to keep her, and the Master was alive. They were just going to have to find some means of keeping him that way.

"Not bloody likely," Wilf interrupted.

"And don't swear," the Doctor chided. "Hold on-"

"I've never really understood why that's a swear word," Viera said, watching the Doctor fiddle with the sonic screwdriver. He pointed it at the TARDIS, and with three little chirps, it faded out of sight.

"Just a second out of sync," the Doctor explained. "Don't want the Master finding the TARDIS; that's the last thing we need."

He hurried off, Wilf and Viera right behind him. They tried to be sneaky, but Viera felt all the more conspicuous. Nevertheless, no one spotted them, though they nearly ran into a couple of men dressed in black like the ones from the helicopter.

"That book said he's a billionaire," Wilf said. "He's got his own private army."

"Of course he does," Viera muttered. Because things weren't complicated enough already.

"Down here." The Doctor led them to a small door in the far wall, opening it with his screwdriver. They made their way down a set of dark, narrow stairs and into a hallway. Everything was lit with green light. The whole hallway was covered with large panels of grid and wiring.

"What is this?" Viera asked quietly.

The Doctor scanned some of the panels with the screwdriver, frowning thoughtfully at the readings. The muffled voice of a woman drifted in from further down the hall.

"Let's go find out," the Doctor said. He jogged down the hall and they followed, though Viera watched the panels a bit warily. Being inside some sort of machine didn't feel very safe.

"-multiple overshots have triplicated into-" They peered around the corner into a normally-lit room. The blond woman there stopped talking abruptly as she spotted them, staring in surprise.

"Nice gate," the Doctor commented cheerfully.

"Hello," Wilf called. Viera smiled and gave a friendly wave.

"Don't try calling security, or I'll tell them you're wearing a shimmer, 'cause I reckon anyone wearing a shimmer doesn't want the shimmer to be noticed, or they wouldn't need a shimmer in the first place," the Doctor babbled.

The blond woman just looked stunned. The Doctor did have that effect on people. "I'm s-sorry," she finally managed. "What's a shimmer?"

The Doctor pointed his sonic at her and it whirred softly. "Shimmer." The blond woman's form did indeed shimmer then fade, leaving a green woman in her place, dark spikes growing from her head. She groaned.

"Oh my lord, she's a cactus," Wilf gasped. The woman gave him an irritated glare and Viera winced. That seemed very politically-incorrect.

Viera tilted her head. "They can't all be aliens here, or you wouldn't need to hide," she mused. "Is Mr. Naismith human?"

"Of course he is," the woman snapped.

"Well what is he up to? And why are you here?" Viera asked. The Doctor was busy darting from one computer screen to another. They were interrupted by a whir of power as something in the grids out in the hallways shifted and power started flowing. Viera could feel it, just faintly, but she couldn't begin to guess at what it was. It didn't feel threatening, but she wasn't sure that meant anything.

"He's got it working," the Doctor muttered. "But what is it? What's working?"

A man in a lab coat chose that moment to run in, looking understandably startled by their presence. "What are you doing here?"

The Doctor simply pointed his screwdriver over his shoulder. "Shimmer."

The man's human appearance faded. He was green and spikey, just like the woman. He looked completely stunned.

The Doctor finally tore his attention away from the computer. "Now tell me quickly, what's going on? The Master, Harold Saxon, Skeletor, whatever you're calling him, what's he doing up there?!" he demanded.

The green man shook his head, still wrong-footed.

"It's important," Viera pleaded. "Saxon," which was a far better name for that man than 'The Master' in her opinion, "he isn't what you think. He's dangerous."

"But I checked the readings. He's done good work. It's operational," the man insisted.

"What's operational?" Viera asked.

"The Gate," he said, like that explained anything.

"Who are you though?" the Doctor asked, turning to look back at the grids in the hallway. "Cause I met someone like you. He was brilliant, but he was little and red-"

"No," the green woman sighed. "That's a Zocci."

"We're not Zocci. We're Vinvocci. Completely different," the green man exclaimed, offended.

"And the Gate is Vinvocci," the woman explained. "We're a salvage team. We picked up the signal when the humans reactivated it. As soon as it's working we can transport it to the ship."

"Maybe you should transport it now," Viera suggested, eyeing the computer screens distrustfully.

"What does it do?!" the Doctor demanded.

"It mends," the man explained. "It's as simple as that. It's a medical device to repair the body. It makes people better."

Viera frowned. "What would he want with that?" She looked back at the hallway, then at the Doctor. "Do you think he's trying to fix himself? Could the Gate do that?"

The Doctor scratched the back of his head. "I don't know. Maybe," he said doubtfully. "But that can't be it. Every warning says the Master's gonna do something colossal." He trailed off as his attention returned to the computers.

Wilfred spoke up in the moment of quiet, pointed to the panel-covered hallway. "That thing's like a sickbed, yes?"

"More or less," the green woman replied.

"Then pardon me for asking, but… why's it so big?"

The Doctor turned around at that. "Good question! Why's it so big?"

"Well it doesn't just mend on person at a time," the woman scoffed.

"That would be ridiculous," the man laughed.

"It mends whole planets."

The Doctor froze. "It does what?!"

Viera tried to figure out what was so awful about that. Maybe it could be turned backwards, to destroy instead of mend? The Doctor certainly seemed to have a good grasp on the awful possibilities.

"It transmits the medical template across the entire population," the green woman explained.

"What?!" the Doctor yelped. Then he was off, running frantically for the stairs, leaving Wilf and Viera behind.

"What's wrong?" Wilf asked.

"I don't know," Viera said. Hurriedly she turned to the green pair who looked just as confused. "Has it ever been tampered with? Used for something bad, to do something other than mend?"

They both shook their heads slowly. "No," the woman said. "Not that I recall."

Viera frowned, glancing at the door where the Doctor had disappeared. "Can you turn it off?"

"But he just got it working," the man complained.

"He's a sociopath, a megalomaniac, and a genius," Viera said firmly. "Please turn it off. Please."

The woman studied her a moment then groaned, turning to the computer console. "Come on, Rossiter. Help me shut it down."

"Thank you," Viera breathed. "Come on." She took Wilf's hand and tugged him towards the door. They left the green pair behind them, the man's complaints following them down the hall. They made it most of the way up the stairs when Wilf stumbled. Viera caught him, suddenly terrified he was having a stroke or a heart attack.

"Wilf? What's wrong?" she asked.

Donna's grandfather brought a hand to his head. "I can see him. That man." He shook his head. "We have to get to the Doctor."

Viera nodded and tucked herself under his arm. It seemed like an awfully long walk up the stairs, towards the door where they could hear shouting. They stumbled in through the door to find the Doctor sprawled on the ground and a handful of humans. The black guards were there, guns in hand, as were Mr. Naismith and the black woman from the vision. They were all just standing there, dazed, a few of them with hands pressed against their eyes like they were trying to block something out.

"Doctor!" Viera called as Wilf leaned against her more heavily. There was laughter, terrible and mad, behind them. Viera turned to see the Master standing in the midst of an energy field beneath an archway.

"Doctor there's… there's this face," Wilf said as the Doctor scrambled to his feet and rushed over.

"What is it? What can you see?"

"It's him. I can see him," Wilfred murmured. "I keep seeing his face."

"Saxon?" Viera asked.

Wilf didn't answer. He clasped his hands over his ears, trying to stop the laughter.

Voices on the TV drew the Doctor's attention away and Viera's gaze followed. The president of the US was there, rubbing at his eyes just like other people in the room. The Gate can reach the whole world. Whatever he's doing, it's going to affect everyone. She glanced back towards the stairs they'd run up. Why aren't they turning it off? Has something gone wrong?

The Doctor ran to the nearest computer, tapping furiously at the keys. "I can't turn it off!"

"That's cause I locked it," the Master scoffed. "Idiot." He laughed again.

The Doctor raced back to his companions, taking Wilfred by the arm. "Come on!" he urged. Viera helped Wilf over the pair of glass booths built against the wall. "Get inside. Get him out," he ordered sharply, pointing to the technician in one of the booths. He climbed into the other booth, closed the door and hit a big red button on the control panel. The door to the other booth opened and Viera tugged the unresisting stranger out. She nudged Wilf in then closed the door behind him.

"Oh no," the Doctor scolded. "You too. Get in there."

"Fat chance," Viera flatly. Had she been thinking logically, she probably would have listened, but the Doctor was in danger- she knew he was in danger- and her instincts were demanding that she stick close.

"Viera…" the Doctor growled.

"No."

He didn't have time to keep arguing. The Doctor grumbled something that didn't translate and pushed a few of the slides on the control panel. "Just need to filter the levels-"

"I can see again!" Wilf exclaimed as the Doctor finished. "He's gone!"

"Radiation shielding. Now press the button. Let me out," the Doctor ordered.

"Do what?"

"I can't get out unless you press the button. That button there!" The Doctor pointed to a matching red button to the one he'd used to open the other door. Wilf pressed it and the Doctor's side of the booth popped open.

He paused just long enough to give Viera a worried look, then raced over to the computers again. Viera followed, but she was helpless when it came to that sort of technology. She wished there was just a plug they could pull. The Doctor's fingers raced over the keyboards, but the Gate continued to build up energy.

"Fifty seconds and counting!" the Master taunted.

"To what?!" the Doctor demanded.

"Oh, you're gonna love this!" was all the other Time Lord would say.

Forty seconds. "What if I try?" Viera asked.

"What?" The Doctor finally looked up to stare at her.

"What if I try to pull the energy out of the gate?" There was a lot of it- enough energy to cover the planet. She could feel it building up, a flood barely contained behind a cracking dam. Even as she made the offer, part of her quailed at the thought of trying to contain so much power.

"No." He dismissed the idea immediately to her relief and chagrin. "It's too strong. It could kill you." He turned back to the computer, looking a little more desperate as his fingers flew across the keys.

"Doctor…"

"No. We don't even know how it might affect the Gate. You could make it worse- cause an explosion," he argued. He dragged his gaze away from the computers just long enough to give her a stern look, but she wasn't going to risk disobeying him then. She had no real desire to try to wrestle with all that power in the Gate.

The sound of a phone pulled Viera's attention away. Surprise lanced through her when she saw Wilf pull a gun from his jacket- evidently by mistake- and hide it again before pulling out his cell phone.

What is he doing with a gun?

The Doctor stopped running to and fro. It was no use. He couldn't fix the computers. "What is it?" he demanded. "Hypnotism? Mind control? You're grafting your thoughts inside them, is that it?"

"Oh, that's way too easy," the Master purred, radiating smugness. "They're not gonna think like me. They're gonna become me!" He stretched his hands up and gave a triumphant cry. Viera felt the energy in the Gate reach its breaking point, then vast wave of blue light washed over everything.

For a moment she couldn't see, couldn't breathe. There was laughter and madness pushing through her skin, her very cells, but it wasn't aimed at her. It didn't latch on or sink into her being. It was gone as quickly as it'd come, leaving Viera shaken but otherwise unaffected. She lifted her head, a little surprise to find herself curled up on the ground. That stupid, maddening laughter echoed around her. It took her a moment to realize it wasn't echoing inside her head but coming from several people in the room.

Horror swept through Viera as her eyes fell on clone after clone of the Master. They were dressed like the humans had been, in a suit, a dress, guard uniforms, lab coats. They all had the same body now, same face, same laugh.

"Viera," the Doctor's voice came close enough that she jumped a little. He was kneeling beside her, his dark eyes worried as they swept over her. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she replied. She took his hand and he helped her stand, facing the small crowd of Master clones. "What happened?"

"What happened?!" the Master laughed before the Doctor could reply. "Now there's a question." He stepped out of the gate, stalking towards them. Viera gripped the Doctor's hand a little tighter and tried to resist the urge to drop her gaze and back away. "Every miserable little human in the whole world is now me, aside from gramps over there." Viera glanced back and relief washed over her at the sight of Wilf in the booth, still wholly himself. "The human race is gone. Erased. But you…" The Master was close enough now to make Viera's skin crawl. He leaned forward to peer at her, smirking slyly. "You used to be human, didn't you?"

Viera couldn't stop the reply that came to her lips, even as a voice at the back of her head warned that playing into the Master's game was dangerous. "Used to be?"

The Master's grin widened. He clasped his hands behind his back and straighten, looking far too triumphant. "Well you're certainly not anymore. Think back. Something happened to you didn't it? Something that changed you? That's what comes of traveling with the Doctor, though isn't it," he purred, gaze shifting to the Time Lord who stood stiff by her side. "Sacrifice. I suppose you should be grateful it was just your humanity you sacrificed instead of your life. Though there's still plenty of time for that."

Viera looked down at her hand, the scars carved into her flesh and being on Nenavist, then again when she used the Obetovat to save Ianto and Stephan. She wondered absently when exactly it had happened, when her DNA changed enough that she wasn't precisely human anymore, but it made no difference in the end.

"So what?" she murmured. She could feel the weight of the Time Lord's gazes when she lifted her chin and spoke louder. "Is that supposed to bother me? Human or not, I'm still me."

The Master gave her a disgusted look which pleased her almost as much as the small proud smile from the Doctor she caught from the corner of her eye.

The multitude of Masters pulled Wilf out of the glass booth and marched the three of them down the hall. They ended up in a pleasant room decorated for Christmas; it seemed like such a mockery. They manhandled Wilf and Viera into chairs and tied them down. She didn't struggle; there really wasn't any point. They were massively outnumbered.

The whole world. He's done this to the whole world, Viera thought numbly as the Master clones forced the Doctor onto some sort of wheeled cart. They were situated in a triangle so Wilf and Viera both had a perfect view to watch him being tied down. They strapped him down with ropes and ties. The original Master bound a strap across the Doctor's forehead, then another across his mouth.

"Is that really necessary?" Viera asked sharply. It was bad enough to be tied down, but for the Doctor to not be able to speak seemed like petty cruelty.

"Want to join him, Kitten?" the Master taunted. Viera scowled but looked away, going quiet. All of the Master's clones left except for two of the guards. "Now then, I've got a planet to run. Is everybody ready?" The Master turned to a large monitor installed in the wall. Different versions of him played across the screen, declaring the allegiance of every former-human on the planet.

More than six and a half billion people, just erased. Everyone, my family, Torchwood, they've all turned into that.

"You know, as set on ruling the world as you are, I wouldn't have thought all those versions of you would be content being mere soldiers, following orders and all that. Don't they want to rule the world too? Why do you get to be the leader?" Viera asked, trying halfheartedly to keep the spite from her voice.

The Master tisked and shook his head, still gleefully triumphant. "But they're not just versions of me; they are me." He waved a hand at the screen showing row upon row of identical soldiers. "Enough soldiers and weapons to turn this planet into a warship!" He turned back to the Doctor who was glaring at him silently, helpless to reply to the Master's taunting. "Nothing to say? What's that, Doctor? Pardon? Sorry?"

Viera grit her teeth and Wilf lost his temper. "Let him go, you swine!" the older man shouted.

"Your dad's still kicking up a fuss," the Master remarked.

"Yeah, well I'd be proud if I was!" replied Wilf without hesitation. Viera felt another surge of affection for the sweet man. He was defiant and brave and steadfast even in the face of such overwhelming odds. Donna took after him a great deal.

"Hush now. Listen to your Master."

A phone rang suddenly, Wilf's mobile. The Master straightened, looking utterly perplexed. Viera didn't realize why right away.

"That's a mobile," the Master said.

"Yeah, it's mine," Wilf admitted as casually as he could manage. "Let me switch it off."

"No, I don't think you understand," the Master said. His voice rose as he stalked toward Wilf. "Everyone on this planet is me. And I'm not phoning you, so who the hell is that?!" He scrambled for Wilf's pockets. The older man fidgeted but he was helpless to stop him.

Of course the Master found the gun before he found the phone. Viera stiffened, hoping he wouldn't get the bright idea to use it on one of them, but all he did was hold it up for the Doctor to see then toss it aside to keep looking. The Doctor, her beloved, pacifist Doctor, looked far more troubled by the presence of the gun than the Master had. Viera had to admit having a gun around tended to cause a lot more problems than it solved, but she could still understand the desire to have one on hand under the circumstances. She couldn't blame Wilf for that

Distraction came when the Master pulled the phone out of Wilf's pocket. "Donna," he read off the screen. Viera sucked in a breath, abruptly realizing the danger. "Who's Donna?"

"She's no one," Wilf said immediately. "Just leave it."

But the Master had no intention of doing that. He hit the answer button and held it up to his ear, just listening. Then he pulled it away and covered the mouthpiece of the phone.

"Who is she?" the Master demanded, looking between the Doctor and Wilf. "Why didn't she change?"

"I didn't change either," Viera pointed out before Wilf could speak. "Maybe your machine's faulty. Are you sure you did it right?"

"Of course I did," the Master ground out.

"Well you didn't change me. You didn't know about Donna. Who knows how many others you might have missed?" she asked a bit more tauntingly than she'd meant to. Her desperation to distract him made her reckless. "Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are."

The Master glared at her for a long moment, the phone momentarily forgotten. Then all at once his expression smoothed out and she really got worried. He walked towards her slowly, enjoying the nervousness that spread across her own expression.

"I think you've said quite enough," he scolded gleefully. Viera instinctively. pulled against the ropes that held her down, but nothing gave way. His voice grew calm and certain, rhythmic. "Hush. Listen to your Master. Listen. Listen. You will obey me. You will obey me. I am the Master. You will obey me."

It was ridiculous. He wasn't her master. She had no reason to listen, no reason to obey, but somehow, somehow she began to feel like she should. His words, his voice wrapped around her thoughts like a thick fog, making everything else feel distant and hazy.

"Stop it! What are you doing to her?" Wilf's voice seemed to come from a long ways off, but it was enough break through the fog- if only for a moment.

What's going on? Viera jerked against her bonds and shook her head, closing her eyes. "Stop," she breathed. She heard a muffled growl, presumably from the Doctor, but then the Master was right there in front of her. His fingers were on her temples and suddenly his voice was inside her head.

"I am your Master. Relax. Just relax. Open up your mind," the Master ordered, words full of confidence. "Show me everything."

Viera felt her resistance slipping away. Her eyes slid halfway open and her muscles relaxed against her will. She couldn't hear any voice but the Master's any longer. Nothing else existed but that voice, his voice and his fingers against her skin.

That's it. She could feel the broken seal on his life force, the energy buzzing beneath his skin instead of buried safely deeper as it should have been. Fighting the haze of complacency with the last dregs of her free will felt like trying to swim through tar. But she had to fight. He's not my master. He's not my anything.

"Let me go!"

Viera reached for the energy and pulled. Electricity- lifeforce- slid into the channels carved into her skin and spirit, sending echoes of laughter skittering across the surface of her mind. He still tasted like death, though it wasn't quite so rank as before.

The Master gasped and jerked away as his form flickered, showing his skeleton once more. He slapped her hard across the face and Viera bit back a yelp. Her cheek burned with the sting of it, but at least the Master didn't try to force his way into her mind again. He kept his distance.

"I thought the Gate was supposed to heal you," she said breathlessly, irritated with the way her voice shook. Pain from his assault on her thoughts- or perhaps the way he'd retreated- had lodged itself behind her temples. The stolen energy pulsing with a foreign beat beneath her skin was making the headache worse.

The Master stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. Apparently he'd thought it was going to heal him too. Unexpected pity twinged through her conscience. She glanced at the Doctor and saw the worry in his dark eyes.

It was reckless to keep talking. Reckless to try to reason with a madman. And yet...

Please don't let me ruin everything by giving away our plans too soon, she prayed silently.

"We can help you, you know," she said aloud.

The Master's head jerked up and he stared at her for a long moment, too surprised to maintain his scowl. Then familiar derision twisted his expression into lines of mockery.

"Help me?" the dark tone in the Master's incredulous words made Viera sit back. She gripped the armrests that her hands were tied to as he stalked closer, gaze fixed on her face. Saxon chuckled and the sound made Viera shiver despite herself. "Help me? He really does manage to find the most softhearted, witless companions in the universe, doesn't he." Viera scowled at him. He leaned closer, barely out of reach and she sunk back against the chair. "Who says I want help?"

Viera swallowed. "Don't you? It's killing you, isn't it? Are you really ready to die?" The Master's eyes narrowed at her and she hurried to finish before he lost his patience. "What if we could fix that? Make you whole again? I could use the gate..."

"The gate already failed, little girl," the Master scolded, gesturing wildly back towards the room that held the machine.

"But the power is there. Maybe it just needs a little more direction." Viera glanced at the Doctor, wondering if she was being spectacularly stupid to even make the suggestion. If she healed the Master completely, they wouldn't be able to trap him in the Vodivost cell. What were they going to do with him then?

"And what's to keep you from killing me, draining me the moment you get your hands on me?" the Master demanded silkily. He stood back and crossed him arms, giving her a superior look, like he thought he could read her mind.

"Him," Viera said quietly, nodding towards the Doctor without looking away from the dark eyes of the madman. She could see the moment uncertainty crept into his thoughts, though the skepticism remained etched onto his face. She fought the urge to look down when he stared harder at her. "Do you really think I could kill you, knowing that he'd mourn?"

Do you really think I could bear to make him the very last of the Time Lord once more?

The Master looked over his shoulder at the Doctor, then gave a single, derisive laugh. "Alright then. Fix me," he challenged, turning back to Viera.

She took a breath to brace herself then nodded towards the Master close that could still be seen on the TV screen. "Fix them first." The Master crossed his arms and raised a brow at her, clearly unimpressed with her soft demand. Stubbornness crept across her own expression. "And let them go," she added, looking at her bound companions.

The Master hummed under his breath as he considered her, and for a moment she hoped… But then a dark, knowing grin spread across his face and her spirits sank.

"I've got a better idea," he said with a malicious grin. The Master stuck the forgotten phone in his pocket and stalked over to the gun he'd discarded. Dread clawed at Viera's thoughts as he picked it up. Then he aimed it at Wilf.

"Fix me or the old man dies."

Viera paled. Her eyes flickered over to the Doctor who was struggling against his bonds and shouting muffled protests into the gag. He didn't seem to think that the Master was bluffing. But what was going to happen if she gave the Master what he wanted without any hope of restoring balance in return?

The sound of the gun cocking scattered her thoughts in a wave of panic that made it impossible to consider doing anything but exactly what he wanted.

"Don't!" she gasped. "I'll do it! I'll do it! Just leave him alone!"

The Master tilted his head to study her, and for a moment Viera thought he was going to pull the trigger simply to see their reactions. She let out a breath when he finally lifted the gun away from Wilf. He tucked the gun inside a jacket pocket and motioned to the two guard clones. They grabbed the back of Viera's chair and started dragging her out of the room.

"You could just untie me. Where exactly do you think I'm going to go? You're everywhere." The protest was quiet and subdued as the adrenaline drained out of her, but the Master heard her well enough. The clones dragging her chair paused and Viera bit back the urge to say something rude. What have I done now?

"Where indeed," the Master drawled. "That reminds me." He walked over to the Doctor and removed the gag across his mouth. "Where's your TARDIS?"

"That's better," the Doctor sighed. He smiled at the Master like they were old friends instead of old enemies, honestly pleased to talk to him despite everything. "Hello."

"Where's your TARDIS?" the Master repeated a little louder.

The Doctor ignored the question. "You could be so wonderful," he murmured. Now that he could talk, the Doctor wasn't going to waste it.

"Where is it?" the other Time Lord insisted, beginning to sound more weary than demanding.

"You're a genius, you're stone-cold brilliant, you are, I swear, you really are. But you could be so much more. You could be beautiful. With a mind like that, we could travel the stars. It would be my honor. Because you don't need to own the universe. Just see it. To have the privilege of seeing the whole of time and space... that's ownership enough." The gentle, earnest cadence of the Doctor's voice was a hypnosis all its own. There was a faint pleading beneath his sincerity, and Viera found herself wanting the Master to agree despite knowing how much life might change if he joined them.

Perhaps he was finally growing weary of fighting, or perhaps he wasn't as immune to the loneliness as he acted because the Master didn't dismiss the Doctor's words the way Viera half-expected him to. Instead he stared at his humanitarian counterpart solemnly. Something vulnerable in his expression tugged at Viera's heart. She thought it might be longing for the life the Doctor painted with his words, for the companionship he offered so freely.

"Would it stop, then?" the Master asked after a moment. "The noise in my head?"

"I can help," was all the Doctor could reply, unwilling to make false promises.

"I don't know what I'd be without that noise," the Master confessed. He seemed more open, more honest in that moment than she'd yet seen him. Viera held her breath, feeling oddly privileged to bear witness to the fragile moment between the last two Time Lords, two enemies than had once been friends bound by fate or something bigger. It made her heart ache for things out of reach, and it made her feel oddly hopeful. Maybe the Doctor's old friend wasn't a completely lost cause after all.

"I wonder what I'd be without you," the Doctor mused solemnly.

"Yeah," the Master agreed quietly. A soft smile gentled his expression in a way Viera hadn't imagined was possible.

"What does he mean? What noise?" Wilf's sudden interruption was jarring; it made her flinch.

The Master's expression twisted with bitterness and he pulled away from the Doctor to pace the floor between them. For a moment she was afraid that the anger and madness and power lust would take over again, that their chance was lost. But when she looked to the Doctor, his expression wasn't worried but solemn with the weight of his empathy as he watched Saxon finally settle into a chair between Wilf and the Doctor.

"It began on Gallifrey. As children," the Master paused and scoffed at his own words. "Not that you'd call it childhood. More a life of duty. Eight years old, I was taken for initiation, to stare into the Untempered Schism."

"What does that mean?" Wilf asked.

"It's a gap in the fabric of reality," the Doctor explained, subdued. "You can see into the Time Vortex itself. And it hurts."

"They took me there, in the dark," the Master continued. "I looked into Time, old man. And I heard it, calling to me. Drums. The never-ending drums..." He trailed off, staring into space as though he were back there all over again.

Viera hadn't spent a lot of time imagining what the Doctor's race might have been like, but when the thought crossed her mind she tended to assume that they had all been rather like him: benevolent, ancient and childlike, enthusiastic, amazing. But hearing the Master's words… a life of duty, subjecting children to an initiation that left such a mark… She realized she really didn't know anything about his people at all.

The Master leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. He didn't look so frightening just then. He looked tired.

"Listen to it," he demanded quietly.

Never ending drums, Viera thought. Never a moment's peace. What would that be like? As a child… She could hear it if she tried, that four-beat rhythm buried in the stolen power that still buzzed deep within her.

"Listen," the Master ordered more intently, opening his eyes and sitting up. All his openness was gone, washed away in the wake of the constant drumbeat.

"Let's find it. You and me," the Doctor suggested with quiet urgency, trying to hold onto the brief glimpse they'd gotten of his old friend.

"Except…" It was no use. The flicker of building ideas stole the last of the solemnity from the Master's face. "Ohh… wait a minute. Oh yes. Oh that's good," he said to himself, rising from his chair to pace to the middle of the room.

"What? What is?" the Doctor asked, rightfully worried.

"That noise exists within my head. And now within six billion heads," the Master replied, gesturing to the screen and the clones in the room. "Every person on Earth can hear it. Imagine… Oh yes!" His soft chuckle grew into a laugh. Madness crept into his voice again, but Viera thought she could still hear strains of desperation beneath. As his laughter grew hysterical, his form flickered once again into a glowing skeleton. The Master's laugh abruptly choked off into gasping as he half-collapsed on the floor. His arms wrapped around his middle like he was trying to hold himself together.

"You're still dying," the Doctor said, pleading for reason.

"This body was born out of death," the Master spat. "All it can do is die."

"You don't know that!" Viera chimed in. "Please. Maybe I can fix this. Let me try." She wanted to try, and it wasn't just because she was worried about whatever new plan the Master was hatching. It wasn't even entirely because because it was what the Doctor wanted. She wanted see that man they'd glimpsed again: ancient and broken and so much more reachable than the madman he'd returned to. She wanted to help him. She wanted him to live.

The Master stared at her just long enough for her to feel a spark of hope before he dashed it with a wild shake of his head. Then he turned and stalked over to the Doctor. "What did you say to me, back in the wasteland? You said the end of time."

"I said something is returning," the Doctor said quickly. "I was shown a prophecy. That's why I need your help—"

"But what if I'm part of it?! Don't you see?" the Master demanded. "The drumbeat is calling from so far away, from the end of time itself! And now it's been amplified six billion times! Triangulate all those signals, I could find its source!"

Viera could only watch in horror as the pieces fell into place, as the prophecy they dreaded grew more and more certain.

"Oh Doctor, that's what your prophecy was!" the Master exclaimed exuberantly. "Me!" Without any warning he struck the Doctor hard across the face. Viera flinched like she'd been the one hit, but Doctor simply took a moment to brace himself before returning his gaze to the other Time Lord. The Master's voice dropped to something dangerous. "Where's the TARDIS?"

"Stop! Please," Viera begged. The prophecy couldn't play out, not when it ended the way it did. "It doesn't have to be this way."

"This is what I was made for!" the Master exclaimed, throwing his arms wide as he turned to smirk at her. "This is destiny."

"Destiny is what you make it," Viera argued desperately. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"And who says I don't want this?" the Time Lord hissed.

"Stop. Just stop," the Doctor commanded firmly. "Just think."

A bored expression took over the Master's face. "Kill her," her ordered. Viera sucked in a startled breath as one of the clones' guns swung towards her.

"You leave her alone!" Wilfred protested.

The Master took a moment, then nodded. "You're right. She might be useful. Kill him," he demanded instead, waving at Wilf. The second clone marched over to stand right in front of the older man.

"No," Viera gasped, barely able to form the words after the shock of having another gun shoved in her face. "Don't. Please."

"I need that technology," the Master said. The clone had the gun aimed at Wilf's head, but at least he wasn't firing for the moment. The other clone was still standing beside Viera but she barely noticed him.

God, help us, was the only prayer Viera's panicked mind could latch onto.

"Tell me where it is," the Master ordered Viera, staring at her like he could see into her thoughts. Her eyes went wide and filled with frightened tears without her biding. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't. Viera shook her head.

A shot went off and Viera gave a gasping little scream. She stared at Wilf through wide eyes, taking in his shocked expression, the fear on his face.

There was a hole in the carpet where the bullet had gone in, mere inches from Wilf's left foot. The Master had lost his temper and used Wilf's own revolver to give the warning shot.

"Leave them alone," the Doctor growled, sounding truly angry for the first time in a long while.

The Master's determination never wavered. "Tell me where it is or I'll kill the old man."

"Don't tell him!" Wilf shouted, finding his voice again, ever brave.

"I'll kill him!" the Master yelled louder. "Right now!"

Shock stole over Viera as the Doctor's expression relaxed into something mocking. What's going on?

"Actually, the most impressive thing about you is that after all this time, you're still bone-dead-stupid," the Doctor rambled. Viera and Wilf stared at him.

Irritation grappled with rage in the Master's expression. "Take aim!" he ordered the guard nearest Wilf. The guard dressed all in black from head to toe obeyed without question.

"You've got six billion pairs of eyes, but you still can't see the obvious, can you?" the Doctor taunted.

"Like what?" the Master demanded.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "That guard is one inch too tall."

They all turned their heads to look at the guard automatically. The Master didn't have time to react before the butt of the guard's gun slammed into his head. He dropped like a stone.

The guard beside Viera swung his gun towards the rebel, taking a menacing step forward. Thankful that they hadn't tied down her legs Viera kicked out and caught him in the back of the knee as he passed. She released the Master's stolen energy in a burst of crackling light, and the guard went down with a yell.

The guard that remained standing tore off his helmet to stare at the fallen Master and clone. The male Vinvocci stood there in all his green, prickly glory.

"Oh my God, I hit him! I've never hit anyone in my life!" He shook himself and scrambled to the Doctor's side, starting to undo the buckles that held him fast. A door behind Viera was flung open, and she craned her head around to watch the Vinvocci woman rush in, knife in hand. She got to Wilf first and started cutting. Viera sat, still bound, and waited for her turn.

"Hurry! We need to get out of here, fast," the woman said.

"God bless the cactuses!" Wilf said as his bonds began to come loose.

"That's cacti!" the Doctor corrected jubilantly.

"That's racist!" the Vinvocci man snapped. He was still struggling with the myriad of buckles holding the Doctor captive, but Wilf was finally free and standing. The woman straightened and started towards Viera.

The fallen clone at her feet stirred and his hand closed around his gun. Apparently the energy was far less crippling to the clones of the one it came from than the soldiers she'd taken down earlier. Viera felt her face go pale. They didn't have time to get to her. She couldn't let them take the time. She was terrified that the Master was angry enough, spiteful enough to kill Wilf the moment he- or any of his clones- got a clear shot.

"Run!" she shouted. Viera kicked at the clone's gun, but he held tight to it and turned to growl at her, looking quite as mad as the original. She had no more stolen energy left to fight him with. There was nothing else she could do.

The two Vinvocci reacted immediately to Viera's command, their own survival instincts urging them on. Wilf stood there staring at her for a long moment, trapped in hesitation as the two aliens ran to grab hold of the wheeled cart that held the Doctor. All the frantic desperation curled around Viera's heart leaked into her voice. "Get him out of here! Go!" Please. You can't help me. There isn't time. "Run!" And finally Wilf turned away.

"No! No no no no no! Stop!" the Doctor shouted in protest as they pushed his cart away, scrambling for the door. The Master clone was up on his feet. Viera could see the Doctor's frantic struggle against his bonds, but nothing gave way and the four of them made it out of the room just in time as the clone fired the gun behind them. The wood of the doorway splintered as a bullet buried itself there.

"They're escaping!" the clone shouted to the screen on the wall. Then he was gone as well, chasing after the Doctor and his companions. Viera was left with the Master and the sound of the clone on the screen shouting orders.

Please let them get out safety. Viera pulled against the ropes that held her once more, but nothing gave. You'd think with as often as I end up caught, I'd be better at escaping, she mused numbly. The panic made her thoughts feel scrambled and oddly distant as the Master began to stir, putting a hand to the bruise on his head. Then again, usually I don't have to escape on my own. She knew she was in trouble, but the Doctor would come back for her when he could; she just had to survive that long. If she was very, very lucky perhaps the Master would give her access to the gate after all, and she could attempt to undone what he'd done. And hope it didn't tear her apart in the process.

A handful of guards ran into the room as the Master climbed to his feet. "Find him!" he snapped when they paused. "Find him!" They ran through the door the others had escaped from without another look back, the Master on their heels. To her great surprise, Viera found herself completely alone.

Oh. Well. I guess I'm not important enough to worry about. Maybe… She frowned at the chair that held her and rocked forwards, backwards, then forwards once more. With the quiet clatter of wooden legs against thin carpet, the chair rocked with her then pitched forward until Viera stood on her own feet. Well this is awkward, she thought as she shuffled towards the nearest door, still hunched against the chair on her back.

Viera made it to the stairs before anyone caught up with her.

"You! Stop right now!" a clone's voice shouted from behind her. Viera stared down the long steps, considering briefly trying to run, but she wouldn't get far. She didn't fancy the idea of falling down the stairs anyways. She gave a sigh and sat back until all four legs of the chair were safely on the ground again. "Thought you could get away, did you?" one of the Master's clones sneered as he came into sight.

"Not really," Viera admitted tiredly. "Worth a shot though, wasn't it? Sure took you long enough to find me." The handful of guards now around her glared, but no one raised a hand against her. Instead two of them picked up the arms of the chair, turned her sharply around and carried her back down the hallway.

They thumped her chair down in the room that held the Gate and the Master himself turned to her. Viera met his eyes, feeling strangely calm. Perhaps the calm was just the fatigue setting in, or perhaps it was because there was no triumph in the Master's cold eyes. The Doctor had gotten away. The Master smiled, but Viera could see the rage churning beneath.

"This doesn't change anything," the Master said, somewhere between purring the words and snarling them. "Do you think you've won, little girl? He'll come back. He can't help himself. And then I'll have him."

Viera gripped the arms of her chair a little tighter. He was right, of course. The Doctor would return for her, and for the sake of the world the Master threatened. The lines of the prophesy still burned in her memory.

"I don't understand you." The quiet words slipped out without Viera's permission, but she made no effort to silence herself as the Master's smoky brown eyes narrowed at her. "You're the only two left. Shouldn't you want him with you? How could you want him dead?" Her voice shook a little on the last word but her gaze was steady. She watched his eyes widen before he stalked closer.

"What are you talking about? Did I say that was part of my plan?" the Master asked, his tone taking a dangerous turn. Viera felt her face go slack with sudden panic. They hadn't mentioned that part of the prophecy had they?

What was she supposed to do? Maybe he really didn't want the Doctor dead. Maybe he'd be willing to listen to reason, to help stop what was coming. On the other hand, the Master didn't seem at all concerned about bringing about the end of time. He seemed determined his destiny was to complete the prophecy. If he found out that the Doctor's death was part of the prophecy, would that become his goal as well?

She didn't know.

It was the flickering madness in the Master's eyes that made up her mind. "You're trying to end time," she stammered as he stopped in front of her. "Won't that kill everyone? Including you?"

The Master narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't presume that you understand anything," he hissed. "This is beyond you, Kitten." He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle. Or perhaps more precisely, like a bug under a microscope. She resisted the urge to squirm. "Why are you even here?" he asked slowly. He stared at her as though he was trying to pull the answers from her mind by will alone. The Doctor did that too, but it was much less discomforting when he did it. "What's in it for you?"

"Well you are trying to end my world," she said. She thought that was reason enough.

"No, but you've already lost your humanity. This isn't your world anymore, is it." A taunting sneer curled the Master's lip; the intensity of his gaze was unwavering. "I'm willing to bet you've lost quite a bit more than that, following him. So why do it? Why bother? They die, you know, his companions. You've seen the danger, haven't you? All his little pets, so eager to throw themselves into the fire for him. What's the point?"

Viera just stared at him for a moment, confused as to how he could fail to understand. Then realization spread across his face and he broke into a cruel chuckle.

"Stupid little human. Don't tell me you fancy yourself in love with him!"

Her face flushed with heat at the accusation. But that's ridiculous. I can't- Of course I care about him but- I only- He's just so… When she couldn't even manage to deny it to herself in her own thoughts, Viera realized she really was in trouble. Her gaze darted away from the Master's.

He had been looking for a sore spot to poke at; he had probably expected some sort of outraged or embarrassed denial. When it didn't come, he took her silence as confirmation that he'd been right. He didn't seem to find it so hilarious then.

"You really are pathetic," the Master said, caught between vicious glee and an anger Viera wasn't sure she understood. Jealousy, perhaps? Well, not jealousy exactly but… Even if he decided to hate the Doctor, the Master was used to being the important rival in his life, wasn't he? The only other Time Lord. He wanted to be sure Viera understood that she had no place there. Perhaps her presumptuousness was what made him angry. "You're nothing to him, a speck of sand in the ocean. We've lived hundreds and hundreds of years. Your brief, pitiful little life will go by in a flash. You won't matter. You think you're special? There have been dozens before you and there will be even more after you, or there would be if he wasn't going to die." Viera flinched at that and the Master looked pleased with his success. "He'll replace you like all the rest and move on. He'll forget you. You aren't worth anything to him. You're just a momentary diversion."

He was obviously trying to hurt her, but he'd made a mistake with that tactic. She already knew the Doctor had other companions, better companions even. She knew her time with him would be brief in the grand scope of his life. Maybe she wasn't special, just a girl in the right place at the right time, but Viera also knew full well that he never forgot. Sure, he'd replace her when she was gone. He should. The Doctor should never have to be alone. But he'd never forget her.

And she wasn't worthless. She refused to be.

One of the clones called the Master away then, and Viera let out a quiet sigh. She wanted to let him walk away; she wanted him to ignore her. But she had to try, didn't she?

"Aren't you going to tell me to fix you?" Viera asked. There was more weariness than hope in the words; perhaps that would be enough to convince him that she didn't have any ulterior motives. The Master didn't acknowledge her, focused on directing his technicians. "Wasn't that the whole point of threatening my friend?" she demanded a bit louder.

The Master looked on the verge of rolling his eyes when he finally glanced her way. "You can't fix me." Apparently he'd changed his mind.

"You don't know that," Viera said.

"I'm not letting you within five feet of the Gate," the Master scoffed. "How stupid do you think I am?"

Just stupid enough to be a pain in my backside. She finally fell silent and searched for another plan. Nothing came to mind. All Viera could do was watch and worry. She wasn't close enough to any cords to pull at their energy, and she couldn't get to the screwdriver tucked inside her jacket. Viera flexed her fingers against her fading circulation and watched the changing colors of the sky through the window as the sun set. Time passed with painful monotony, leaving her to less practical thoughts.

In love with the Doctor? Why would he assume that? How would she even know? Sure, she was a romantic, she liked the idea of being in love, but she didn't have any experience with that. Viera loved a lot of people but… There was a difference, wasn't there, between loving someone and being in love?

She'd admit an attraction to the Doctor, at least. He was adorable, how could she help but feel a little flushed in his presence? And, all right, it was more than his looks that intrigued her. With his soft heart, friendly personality, strong will and stronger morals, Viera was pretty sure he could be bald, four feet tall, and green, and still make her want to impress him.

So perhaps she'd wondered a time or two what it would be like to kiss him. She was a romantically-inclined single woman traveling with a very attractive single man. It was only natural to wonder a little, to get a little flustered. That hardly meant she was in love with him.

She loved him, sure. When he hurt, so did she. When he was happy, she was too. He was her best friend, the nearest thing she had to family. She respected and admired him. She'd follow him to the end of the universe and beyond. She'd die for him, live for him, spend the rest of her life at his side if she could. Even the thought of doing otherwise, of being separated from him was… heartbreaking. She'd miss him more than she missed her family. But did that mean she was in love with him?

Did it matter?

It wouldn't change anything. She couldn't tell him, couldn't act on it without jeopardizing their increasingly comfortable friendship. She knew the Doctor cared about her, loved her even, but she'd no idea if he felt anything more than that. Even if he did, the certainty of losing her eventually to either time or circumstance still stood in their way.

So she even if she thought she was in love with him, she couldn't risk making the first move and he wouldn't either, and nothing would change.

That was all right. If all they ever had was friendship and family, Viera would be content. She might wonder and daydream and dare to wish for a little bit more, but she'd be all right. As long as she could stay with him, it was enough.

Viera thought she should have felt relieved that she didn't have to figure out her exact feelings, but all she felt was the faint prickle of disappointment as dreams she hadn't known she wanted faded out of reach.

"Night has fallen," the Master said, something in his voice alerting her to the fact that things were being set in motion. Viera shook herself from her thoughts and started paying more attention.

"Every single one of us is prepared," a clone in a suit stated just as solemnly.

The Master closed his eyes. "Then we listen. All of us, across the world. Just listen…" All the clones closed their eyes as well, and the whole room went silent. Viera just a tiny bit tempted to make a loud noise just a be annoying, but her survival instincts kicked in and kept her quiet. Slowly all the versions of the Master tilted their faces towards the sky.

"Concentrate. Find the signal," the rogue Time Lord murmured. Then with a quiet gasp he opened his eyes. "There! The sound is tangible." His eyes flickered across the air in front of him like he was searching for something. "Someone could have only designed this. But who?"

"Someone designed the sound in your head?" Viera asked, feeling it was safe enough to talk. Well, safe-ish. "But that means… Does that mean someone did it on purpose?" That someone made you mad on purpose? The thought horrified her and that carried into her voice. The Master stared at her, but she couldn't read his expression. "Or that you picked up on something you weren't supposed to? Is that possible?"

He never answered; one of the clones drew his attention away.

"The sound. It's coming from above."

The Master jerked his head up, forgetting Viera immediately. "It's coming from above!" He ran out of the room before Viera could question what was going on, a couple of his guards behind him.

He came back in a few minutes later, pacing and fidgeting as a dozen or so of his guards ran from the room.

"What's going on?" Viera asked, half-expecting to be ignored again.

The Master gave her a distracted frown and continued pacing. Viera sighed and pulled against her ropes again, more out of a desire to do something than any belief that they would give way. The room went silent again for a long while and the Master grew more and more agitated. Viera didn't dare start a conversation with him when he looked so close to snapping. There was something terribly fragile in him, and more than that there was something deeply dangerous.

Time seemed to pass even slower and Viera missed the time-skipping TARDIS fiercely. It was so close yet completely out of reach for her. Even if she was free, she wasn't sure she could have risked the Master following her to it. It would have been tempting though.

Heavens, time passed so slowly outside the vortex. Was I always this bad at waiting? Viera wondered, fidgeting in her chair. Then at last a voice sounded over the intercoms.

"It's a diamond, sir," one of the clones said. "Ohh, the most impossible diamond. You won't believe this. It's a Whitepoint Star."

The reverence in the clone's voice confused Viera, but not as much as the shock on the Master's face. "What's a Whitepoint Star?" Viera asked.

The Master didn't answer. The shock on the surface of his expression turned to realization, then cracked and splintered, letting madness leak through. He started laughing, turning his head up to cackle at the heavens. As his composure fractured, so did his body; Viera watched in horror as he flickered into a blue skeleton again and again.

What is going on?

The Master stopped laughing abruptly, turning to snap orders at the technicians turned clones. Viera didn't understand most of it. She watched them tear apart the computers and use what was left to build something new: a computer console that stood opposite the Gate.

"What are you doing?" she asked the Master when he wandered close enough. He barely looked at her. "What's a Whitepoint Star?" she tried again, a little louder. He started walking away. "Who put the drums in your head?!" The Master paused then, and Viera decided to try entreaties rather than demands. "Please. I just want to understand."

"It doesn't matter." The Master finally turned around, walking a few steps backwards. A grin more bitterness than madness pulled at his expression. "There's nothing you can do to stop this. It's destiny." Then he was radiating triumph again, confidence and certainty. He went back to ignoring her as he turned away.

"That doesn't mean you can't do something to stop this," Viera told him, though there was a small, worried part of her that wondered if that was true. It didn't matter; no one was listening to her anyways.

They worked through the night, putting the console together, rewiring the Gate and rewriting codes. Viera heard snatches of conversation about tracking and the diamond but not enough to put together what was going on. It didn't help that she was exhausted. She'd put her body through a lot between the Ood circle and the volatile energy stolen from the Master. In addition, she hadn't slept well since the Ood started calling for the Doctor, invading her dreams.

No, Viera corrected herself. I'm not sure I've really slept well since the Doctor explained that prophecy all that time ago. She wasn't prone to nightmares, but when she didn't stay up late researching, her mind often kept her away anyways, turning over fears and impossible hopes in her mind. Only when she was completely exhausted from one adventure or another did she manage to sleep a full night. Perhaps that was one of the reasons they went on so many adventures; she knew she wasn't the only one on the TARDIS who had bad dreams.

Several times as the hours wore on, Viera nodded off. It was getting light again when the Master gave an order loud enough to wake her.

"Get me all outgoing frequencies. I want to talk to him."

No one needed to ask who he was.

"Ready," one of the clones said a few moments later. There was a slight crackle as the intercom came online. Everyone was completely silent except for the Master, who spoke confidently to the open air.

"A star fell from the sky. Don't you want to know where from?" The Master's voice was full of smugness, completely certain of his success.

"I'm fine, by the way!" Viera called, deciding that, at least, was worth the risk. One of the nearby clones cuffed the back of her head and the Master glared fiercely at her for interrupting his monologue. She gave him a look at was as much defiance as it was submission, but she shut up. No need to encourage him to threaten his hostage.

"Yes, yes," the Master sneered his disgust. "Your little used-to-be-human pet is still breathing. For now," he had to add, though even that threat was distracted. "More importantly, we found that fallen star. And it all makes sense now, Doctor. The whole of my life; my destiny. The star was a diamond, and the diamond is a Whitepoint Star." The Master paused for effect, glee mixing with the mad light of triumph in his eyes. He obviously expected that to mean as much to the Doctor as it had to him. "And I've worked all night to sanctify that gift. Now the Star is mine, I can increase the signal. And use it, as a lifeline."

A lifeline for what? What signal? The drumbeats in his head? What for? Viera bit down on her lip, unable to bring herself to interrupt as the Master's voice turned wild, vicious.

"Do you get it now?! Do you see? Keep watching, Doctor. This should be spectacular! Over and out!" he yelled. The faint buzz on online communications went silent as they cut the broadcast off. The Master turned to yell orders once more. "Open up the nuclear bolt. Infuse the power-lines to maximum."

"What are you doing?" Viera called, fear tangling around her words.

For once the Master didn't hesitate to acknowledge her question. He turned to her with a wide, manic grin and threw his arms wide with a loud burst of laughter.

"I'm calling out to Gallifrey. I'm bringing the Time Lords to Earth!"

"What?" Viera breathed. "You're- But that's-" Her mind felt blank with shock, leaving her scrambling for words. "I thought the Time Lords were dead," she finally managed.

"Is that what he told you?" the Master laughed. "Gallifrey is locked away in time, eternally burning in the Moment. I suppose they were as good as dead. He should know, since he was the one who destroyed them. Your precious Doctor, Destroyer of Worlds, murderer of his own race." He was grinning widely, glorying in the moment. "And I, I will be their savior. Oh, the sweet, sweet irony."

What? I- That can't be. Viera's thoughts stalled somewhere between the impossibility of the Time Lords returning and label of murderer being used for the Doctor. She couldn't even grasp at the questions she was sure she should have been asking.

While she was struck silent, the Master took the diamond and with great flare he placed it in the center of the newly-built console. That awful, four-beat drumming pulsed through the air, an audible high-pitched sound.

This is a good thing, isn't it? Is it a good thing? Viera thought of the wonderfulness of the Doctor, the madness of the Master, and the things they'd said about their childhood and wondered again what the Time Lord race was like. Somehow she didn't think either the Doctor or the Master were average examples of their race. Still, it had to be a good thing, the Doctor not being the last of the Time Lords, or even one of the last two. Right? Right?

But what about the prophesy?

"What happens when the Time Lords come?" she asked, her voice shaking with a sense of foreboding she didn't entirely understand. Her mind scrabbled away from the idea that the Doctor had ended his own race. She couldn't deal with that, not yet. There were bigger problems to deal with, the completion of the prophesy, the end of time, the end of the Doctor. Unless that was the end of the Doctor. Would the Time Lords execute him for what he'd done to them?

Was there anywhere he could hide from his own race when they could travel time and space as he could?

"Wait," Viera gasped, frightened by the idea. No one listened, and she couldn't find a rational argument anyways. How could she expect the Master to give up his chance to save his people for the sake of the man who had destroyed them?

The Master stood in the middle of the room, face and hand stretched towards the sunlight filtering in through the skylight. "Come home," he murmured, closing his eyes.

Viera could feel the building power of the Gate pulsing through her mind. Always four beats hailing the coming of the Time Lords, foretelling the end of her best friend. The sound grew and deepened, reaching out into space, into time, into the impossible depths of reality. Viera's eyes closed of their own violation as the sound filled her up. She felt the change when the Master did; that maddening sound connected with its source and a bridge through time blossomed into existence.

"We have contact."

"Sir! We've got a fix! Hundred and five thousand miles in orbit!" one of the clone technicians shouted.

Oh no. Why couldn't you stay where you were, hiding? I hope you know what you're doing, Doctor. Oh, how she wished she was there with him instead of trapped with the Master and all his clones, despite the fact that her position suddenly seemed far safer than his.

"All NATO defenses coordinated sir, awaiting your command!" the general on screen offered.

The Master was grinning madly, a wild light in his eyes. "I don't need him. Any second now I'll have Time Lords to spare!"

"Don't!" Viera shouted, panic lending volume to her voice. She tried to sound rational but she ended up pleading. "You don't mean that! You asked him who he'd be without you. Who would you be without the Doctor?!"

She felt a surge of hope as the Master paused. Hesitation crawled into his expression for just a moment. "I am going to be the savior of Gallifrey!" Though he gave her a sneer, his resolve seemed shaken. But was it enough?

"After everything you've been through-" she tried again.

"What would you know about it?!" he snapped.

"Nothing," Viera admitted, flinching at his temper. The last thing she needed was to make him angrier. "I just… When you talked together, when you talked about him, it seemed like there was a lot of history there. Haven't you been through a lot together?"

The Master rolled his eyes, but she figured as long as he wasn't giving the order to fire yet it was something of a victory. "We were enemies," he said condescendingly, pacing a few steps away.

"But you were friends once too, weren't you?" Viera's tone quieted. The Master stilled. "Is it really okay to just wipe all that out? To end it like this?"

"He's heading straight for you!" the clone on the screen warned. Viera bit her lip worriedly but didn't look away from the Master. All she could read in his scowl was annoyance, but when he finally turned away some of the viciousness had leaked out of him.

"It doesn't matter," the Master muttered, rejecting the offer to attack. He dismissed the Doctor's presence altogether, focusing on his goals instead. "It's too late anyway. They are coming." He held his hands out, as though asking for a gift. The Gate was beginning to glow.

The room shook and the glow became blinding as the Master laughed and literally jumped for joy. For once his laughter was simply delighted rather than mad. Viera felt pressure building in her mind from the power flooding the other end of the room, but it wasn't unbearable. It wasn't painful exactly, but it felt like gravity had turned on her, weighing down on her mind and the system of power-channels built into her being.

The Master laughed again. "Closer! And closer!" he shouted, arms still thrown wide in welcome. Viera had to squint to look into the light, but she could see figures there, five of them.

Time Lords.

They grew clearer as they came out of the brightness. A man stood in the middle, his arm raised in a salute. The two to either side of them were bowed with their hands hiding their faces. The last two stood tall at either end of the group. It was hard to see them past the brilliance of the Gate's work, but even through the haze Viera could make out triumph in the man standing tallest.

"I think I should warn you-" one of the clones spoke up out of nowhere.

"No now!" the Master snapped. He never took his eyes off the approaching strangers, but Viera turned look at the clone standing by the window. He was staring at the sky, and Viera saw a shadow pass overhead as the clone ducked instinctively.

Doctor?

She was still staring out the window when there was a terrible crash overhead. The skylight shattered and a shower of glass rained down in front of the Master, bringing a heavier form with it. The body smashed into the ground with a stunted cry of pain, and Viera was horrified to realize she recognized the limp form.

"Doctor!" she screamed, terrified for a moment that he'd killed himself with that stupid stunt. With great relief she saw his fingers twitch and saw his shoulders rise and fall with his pained gasps. The Doctor's shaking hand lifted Wilf's revolver from the glass-covered floor and Viera stopped breathing as he aimed for the newly-arrived Time Lords.

But either his resolve to kill or his body were simply too weak, because the gun fell to the ground, unfired.

"Doctor," Viera moaned, pulling fruitlessly against her bonds. The ropes bit into her already raw skin and drew blood, but she hardly noticed. The Doctor was struggling for breath, bleeding on the ground and all she wanted was to go to him. He tried and failed to push himself up, and Viera wondered fearfully how much he'd broken falling from the sky.

"My Lord Doctor," came a smooth, aristocratic voice, dripping with arrogance. Viera felt an immediate surge of dislike as she looked up to see the tall Time Lord finally perfectly clear. He looked smug, gloating over her injured Doctor, and she thought she might actually, honestly hate him.

"My Lord Master," the stranger greeted the other Time Lord as well. The Master looked wary now, no longer triumphant. That hardly boded well. "We are gathered, for the end." The stranger wore a small, cold smile, like he already knew he'd won. Won what, Viera wasn't sure, but she wasn't ready to give up quite yet.

The Doctor wasn't either. Panting like the wounded being he was, he gathered enough strength to push himself up until he was kneeling instead of face down on the floor. He didn't glance her way, his dark eyes turned to plead with the Time Lord who had spoken.

"Listen to me," he gasped quietly. "You can't-" Viera worried that she heard blood in his throat as he breathed, but perhaps it was just pain tightening his vocal chords or her own paranoia. He'd regenerate, wouldn't he, if he was dying? He couldn't. Not yet. Not when she couldn't reach him. All her desperate hopes would be for nothing.

The stranger with his scepter and gold-embroidered velvet robes ignored him entirely. "It is a fitting paradox that our salvation comes at the hand of our most infamous child." His cool voice darkened with something like disgust as the Master met his gaze. Viera didn't think that was fair. Everything the Master had done, while she didn't know most of it, wasn't it the Time Lords' fault- at least in part? Weren't they the ones who had planted that blasted drumming in his mind, driving him mad? Who might he have been if they'd left him alone?

"Oh, he's not saving you," the Doctor scoffed, still curled over his knees on the floor like he hadn't the strength to move further. "Don't you realize what he's doing?"

"Hey! No! Hey!" the Master scolded. "That's mine. Hush!" he hissed, drawing a finger to his mouth. Then he turned his attention to the stranger, the triumph back in his eyes, though the wariness wasn't quite gone either. "Look around you. I've transplanted myself into every single human being. But who wants a mongrel little species like them? 'Cause now I can transplant myself into every single Time Lord."

Viera shuddered. What an awful, lonely thing that would be. It'd just be more of him, all the same. What kind of company is that? She didn't want to think about what a threat he'd be then, or how hard it would be to fix humanity if there were that many more of the Master.

"Oh, yes, Mr President, sir," the Master gloated, "standing there all noble and resplendent and decrepit. Think how much better you're gonna look as me!"

But the Time Lord President simply lifted his left hand with a smug smile, showing off the dark metal gauntlet he wore. The Master's self-satisfaction vanished. The President opened his fist and blue light began to pour out from between the sections of metal.

Viera shivered as the power filled the room, passing her over as the Gate's power hand. The clones in the room shuddered violently like they had during the first change. Viera didn't dare to hope until the Master started protesting.

"No! No, no, no, stop!" He turned around, frustrated and helpless to keep his plans from coming undone. Then suddenly the clones where gone; the humans in the room were back to normal, dizzy and confused, but otherwise fine.

"On your knees, mankind," the President ordered before Viera could even process the relief.

From one tyrant to another. Fantastic.

To Viera's surprise, the whole room knelt without a single argument. Just like that. Perhaps it was the confusion or the commanding presence of the President, or perhaps they remembered a bit of what the Master knew, but none of them gave so much as a protest. Admittedly, it was probably safer that way, but there was almost always at least one human with more backbone than brains who would put up a fight whether that was the right thing to do or not.

"No, but, that's good," the Master rambled, all but stuttering. He was worried. The President obviously couldn't be counted on to be as merciful after such threats as the Doctor would be. "That's fine, 'cause you said salvation. I still saved you! Don't forget that!"

The room was shaking again, and Viera bit back a groan as the pressure returned threefold. The white light behind the Time Lords grew brighter.

There was just enough chaos for Viera to turn, unnoticed, and hiss to the nearest guard. "Untie me." He turned his head but didn't otherwise move. She couldn't see his face behind his helmet, but she imagined he had the same blank, overwhelmed expression as the rest of the humans in the room. "Untie me," she insisted louder. "Please!"

"The approach begins!" the President said, too caught up in his own triumph to even notice one tied up human woman. He raised his arms to the sky and the two other Time Lords not covering their faces did the same.

"Approach of what?" the Master asked, completely lost. He turned to the Doctor instead of the other Time Lords. Viera listened intently as the guard struggled with the ropes around one wrist.

The Doctor was scared and frustrated and had little patience for the one who had caused it all. "Something is returning. Don't you ever listen?!" he growled, turning on the Master. "That was the prophecy. Not someone. Something!"

"But what is it?" the Master demanded.

"They're not just bringing back the species. It's Gallifrey!" the Doctor shouted over the rising roar of power behind him. "Right here! Right now!"

Gallifrey? Their planet?! What do you mean 'right here'? Viera wanted to ask, but she didn't want to risk drawing the attention of the President or the Master, for that matter. As though he could feel her worry, the Doctor finally glanced her way. Something apologetic crossed his expression and Viera realized with a pang that he didn't have a plan.

She gave him a grim little smile. It didn't matter. They'd think of something anyways. They always did. Nothing was going to end.

And if worst came to worst, at least they'd know they'd done their best.

Her right arm finally came free and Viera started untying her left while the guard moved on to the ropes tied around her torso. It wasn't easy; all her struggling had pulled the knots even tighter than they'd been in the first place.

The ground shook violently beneath their feet; the whole of Earth trembled as the pressure in Viera's mind grew. More glass fell from the ceiling and the newly rescued humans had enough. They began bolting for the door. The guard helping Viera hesitated.

"Don't go. Please. Just get me loose," she begged. He went back to work and she tugged harder at the ropes around her other arm. Her fingertips were raw but that hardly mattered. Another large shard of glass shook loose from the ceiling and fell just a little too close to the guard. The glass shattered and the guard gave up, running for the door.

"Wait!" Viera shouted after him. He didn't so much as look back. She muttered unflattering things under her breath as she finally freed her left arm and tried to reach around to pull at the last knot holding her to the chair. Please, God. Viera grunted as she stretched as far as she could, then forced her body to stretch a little further until she could grip the edges of the knot with her fingers. It was a painstaking effort to work the last end of the knot free of its loop, the voice of the Master ranting in the background.

"I did this!" the Master insisted, still trying to bargain for leniency. "I get the credit! I'm on your side!"

Finally the rope came loose and Viera pulled free of the chair. It clattered loudly to the ground behind her, but she didn't pay it any mind. It wasn't like she was trying to hide.

"It's still the wrong side," Viera said as she ducked past the Master, not bothering to look for his reaction. She scrambled to the Doctor's side, ignoring the glass that bit into her knees as she dropped beside him. Her hands hovered inches away from the Doctor for a moment, almost afraid to touch him when he looked so torn up. Viera swallowed hard.

"They have these neat little inventions called 'doors', you know," she chided quietly, finally resting her hands on his arm and a patch of his back that hadn't been torn by glass. "When people tell you to 'drop in for a chat', they don't usually mean it literally." The Doctor closed his eyes at her touch and she felt him shake slightly, though he wasn't gasping for breath so badly as he had been. She wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he knew better than she did that it wasn't.

Viera took a deep breath. "If I try to take control of the Gate-" she said to suggest in a low voice. The Doctor grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise, his eyes suddenly fierce.

"Don't you dare," he ordered. "It'd kill you-"

"Doctor," Viera protested quietly. If it was her or the Earth… Well, she was going to die anyways, wasn't she?

"You couldn't control it," the Doctor said firmly. "I know you're strong, Viera, but this is- You'd never even get to the Gate. That gauntlet would tear you apart. It's not like the Master's energy, it's not like anything you've dealt with before. It wouldn't work."

Viera sighed and slid her hand down to cover his. The Doctor's other hand loosened as she nodded. "Okay. We need a better plan." Nothing came to either of them. The Earth shook harder and a shadow filled the sky. Viera looked up to see a massive planet peek over the skylight; it looked like hot lava, some places a cool dark orange while others were as bright as shifting embers. Did it always look like that or was the planet still burning?

Footsteps hurrying into the room instead of out of it drew Viera's attention. Wilf ran into the room. Dear, brave Wilf. He hesitated at the sight of the two of them kneeling on the floor between the Master and the other Time Lords, but one of the technicians had been caught in the clear booths the Doctor had used to shield Wilf from the Gate and he was pleading for help. Wilf ran to the other booth and stepped in.

"Wilf, don't," the Doctor protested weakly. "Don't." But Wilf didn't hear him over the chaos in the room. He hit the button to set the technician free, trapping himself instead. The technician ran.

The Doctor bowed his head, helpless frustration written across his face. Viera didn't understand why Wilf would be in any more danger than the rest of the planet, she didn't have time to ask before the Master spoke again.

"But this is fantastic, isn't it?" he said more than asked, looking from the orange planet above to the other Time Lords. Then he turned his gaze to his oldest rival, and Viera sat back as the Doctor glared at him. Uncertainty flickered across the Master's face, but he straightened and lifted his chin anyways. "The Time Lords, restored," he claimed proudly.

"You weren't there, in the final days of the war," the Doctor said, his voice low and furious. Dangerous. "You never saw what was born. If the Time Lock's broken then everything's coming through. Not just the Daleks, but the Skaro Degradations, the Horde of Travesties, the Nightmare Child, the Couldhavebeen King with his army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres. The War turned into Hell," the Doctor spat. Viera trembled at the remembered horror in his voice. When she glanced up at the President, there was only defiance there, and a calm, cold madness that could have outmatched the violence of the Master's. What the Doctor was saying was truth and he knew it. And the President didn't care. "And that's what you've opened, right above the Earth. Hell is descending."

The Master drew himself up, unwilling to admit all his plans had gone to ruin, or perhaps just mad enough to believe he still triumphed. "My kind of world," he declared.

"Just listen!" the Doctor demanded, raging desperately. "Cause even the Time Lords can't survive that!"

"We will initiate the Final Sanction," the President said. The words were remorseless and calm, but Viera saw the weight of them settle in the bow of the Doctor's shoulders. "The End of Time will come. At my hand! The rupture will continue, until it rips the Time Vortex apart."

"So then everyone, everything is dead?" Viera asked shakily. How are you any better than the Daleks with their Reality Bomb? Or the Master with his power-mad plans to become everybody? "Then what's the point of it all?!" The President's cold eyes turned briefly her way and she stiffened before he dismissed her completely.

"But that's suicide," the Master protested, confused. Destroying the world, the universe was one thing, but destroying himself? That was too crazy apparently even for him.

"We will ascend! To become creatures of consciousness alone. Free from these bodies, free from time and cause and effect; while creation itself ceases to be," the President lectured. The Master stared at him, horrified realization creeping into his expression.

The Doctor leaned against Viera to sit up all the way. "Do you see now?" the Doctor asked tiredly. "That's what they were planning, in the final days of the War. I had to stop them." He looked so weary, worn by the truth of what he'd done, what they'd forced him to become. Destroyer of Worlds. Viera squeezed his hand, wishing she could offer more.

"Then… take me with you!" the Master said. Whatever sane horror he had felt, he'd shaken off, still clinging to the path he'd chosen, still desperate for victory. "Let me ascend, Lord President. Into glory!"

But the other Time Lord sneered. The Master's hopeful expression faded. "You are diseased, albeit a disease of our own creation. No more." The President raised his gauntlet once more, focused on the Master. Despite everything Viera felt a pang of distress as the Master's eyes widened and he took a step back.

Then the Doctor slipped out of her grasp and stood between them. He stood tall, his outstretched arm no longer shaking as he aimed the gun at the President. Viera climbed slowly to her feet, not quite believing what she was seeing. The President had frozen as well, the gauntlet still partially curled in a fist. There was no sound from the Master behind them.

She'd never seen the Doctor wield a gun before.

"Choose your enemy well," the President warned. "We are many, and the Master is but one."

The Master objected. "But he's the President. Kill him, and Gallifrey could be yours." Viera looked at him, surprised. Surely he knew the Doctor better than that. Never once had she seen the Doctor tempted by power. Viera stepped back as the Doctor spun in place, switching the gun to his other hand to aim at the Master, a bullet sliding into the chamber with a metallic snap. She watched surprise and fear flicker across the Master's face, but the Doctor's frozen determination didn't waver even as his target did.

"He's the one to blame! Not me!" the Master protested. Still the gun was steady, and realization dawned. "Oh, but link is inside my head. Kill me, the link gets broken, they go back."

One life to same them all, to save everything. One guilty life that had started the whole mess in the first place. The Doctor had destroyed his home, his whole race to prevent what was coming. What was one more life?

What was the worth of one life?

"You never would," the Master denied, bracing himself. The Doctor didn't falter. "You never would, you coward," he proclaimed again. Defiance and anger twisting his expression. "Go on then. Do it!" the Master finally yelled, daring him. Perhaps he thought he was calling the Doctor's bluff, because fear replaced defiance as the Doctor's finger tightened around the trigger.

Viera could only watch.

"Don't," implored the Master quietly.

As suddenly as the first time, the Doctor spun around to aim the gun at the President again.

"Exactly!" the Master crowed viciously. "It's not just me, it's him! He's the link! Kill him!"

The Doctor grimaced, but didn't falter. Viera could only imagine how badly this must be hurting him. The Time Lords were already as good as dead, and he'd done that once, but having to do it again, having to look the President in the face and pull the trigger…

The President didn't look as concerned as he should have. "The final act of your life is murder," he said, voice as cold as his eyes.

Not the final act. It won't be. Viera curled her shaking hands into fists, angry and scared and so blasted helpless.

"But which one of us?"

The Doctor stood, undecided. The madman who was once a friend, who'd caused it all and who would still be a threat if he survived? The Time Lord who would vanish with Gallifrey either way, but perhaps not before killing the Doctor with that gauntlet of his? They were both at fault and maybe they both deserved punishment for what they'd attempted, but the Doctor didn't want to be the one to do it. He didn't want to kill either of them.

What choice did he have?

They all stood still watching him, waiting for his decision as the shadow overhead continued to grow. Viera saw the Doctor's gaze shift, just for a moment to one of the other Time Lords, a woman who had been hiding her face with her hands. Recognition, longing and such a deep, old pain filled the Doctor's eyes. The same pain was mirrored in the woman's eyes as they held his.

Who-?

Then the woman looked away; focusing behind the Doctor she gave a very slight nod. At that small prompting he spun around again. The Master's face twisted in fear as he understood the Doctor's calm, that his choice was made.

"Wait," Viera breathed, unable to stomach the thought of the Doctor killing the man he'd wanted so badly to save.

"Get out of the way," the Doctor said, all calm and certainty now.

It took a heartbeat for the Master to register the words, then he dove to the side, just in time. The Doctor fired. The bullet buried itself into the computer console that had been behind the Master. The console exploded in a bright flare of light and fire. Viera felt bridge through time and space shatter, collapsing in on itself like a lopsided black hole.

"The link in broken!" the Doctor shouted over the crackling fire and the roar of dying power. He stared down the President, no triumph on his face, only confidence. He was losing his race all over again, but he had saved everything else. "Back into the Time War, Rassilon! Back into Hell!"

The wind howled through the Gate still shielded in light and the shadow of the planet overhead trembled. Still the President showed no fear, only fury at being vanquished. He raised his gauntlet.

"You'll die with me, Doctor," he spat.

"I know."

The hell he will, Viera thought. She'd only have one chance to try to save him, because he'd push her aside if he realized she was going to step in the way, but she wasn't just going to stand there and watch him die. Maybe the gauntlet would kill her, but maybe it wouldn't. Maybe the President would be surprised enough to pull away before it did her in. Whatever the case, she had a better chance than the Doctor did, and she refused to contemplate a universe without him in it.

The gauntlet glowed with blue light once more, and the woman the Doctor had recognized covered her face in sorrow. The Doctor stood steady, more resignation than defiance, but he didn't beg, didn't flee. Viera supposed there was no point in either. The President had no mercy in him to give.

"Get out of the way," the Master's steady voice came from behind them. The order sounded surprisingly sane. They turned to see him rubbing his hands together as he had back in the junkyard when he attacked the Doctor.

The Doctor grabbed Viera's arm and yanked her out of the line of fire. The Master flung a hand towards the President and a thick stream of crackling blue energy lanced towards him. It struck the other Time Lord in the chest, and the hand holding the gauntlet faltered.

"You did this to me!" the Master screamed, still forcing out the massive stream of energy. "All of my life! You made me!" He stepped forwards and fired another stream of light with his other hand. "One!"

"He's going to kill himself," Viera murmured worriedly as the Master flickered into a skeleton.

"Two!"

What do we do? The box is still in the TARDIS. What do we do?

"Three!"

Viera looked at the stunned horror on the Doctor's face and cursed silently. He'd wanted so badly to save that utterly mad fool. Oh, help, was all the thought she had time to put into her own less-than-sane plan. She darted forward, latching onto the Master's arm as he flung one last bolt towards the President who had fallen to his knees.

"Four!"

The last threads holding the Master together unraveled as the link was completely severed and the white light swallowed up the other Time Lords. Viera barely managed to pull away before it reached for her as well. She didn't see Gallifrey disappear overhead or notice the ground shake one last time before it stilled; Viera was too busy with the life falling apart in her hands.

She pulled at the energy as hard as she could, familiar blue power that gave way to whisperings of life and something deeper. She collected it all, ignoring the burn as old scars were charred into new wounds. Her power channels filled to the brim and overflowed enough to singe her nerves. Still Viera held tight to the foreign energy, curling in on herself as fought desperately to keep it from dissipating.

Just until we can get the box. I just have to hold on until we can get to it.

There were drumbeats in her mind again, then pressure at the back of her mind, a whispering of madness and rage and confusion. Don't you dare die, Viera ordered, though she had no idea if he could hear her, if he was even really conscious. Honestly she had no idea whether she'd even managed to save more than an impression of him, but she thought perhaps she might have, and after losing all the other Time Lords, she wanted this one to live. Even if she didn't really like him.

Viera felt a pang of annoyance at that, one that wasn't her own. She gritted her teeth as the presence pushed against the channels in her mind, a bid for escape or control, she wasn't sure. Stop, she gasped, the thought more a plea than the command she'd been trying for.

Then there were cool fingers pressed to her fevered temples, and a forehead resting against hers. A second presence tapped against the walls of her mind and she gave in willingly. This one was calm, familiar, and infinitely welcome as it forced back the Master's taint, securing it in the back of her mind. The Doctor's gentle presence retreated when his work was done.

Viera blinked open her eyes, surprised to find them damp. Had she been crying? There were concerned brown eyes studying her, and Viera managed a hesitant smile for the Doctor.

"Is it over?" she asked hopefully. She flinched as pain flooded his expression. Viera tried to sit up and gasped as every cell in her body crackled with excess electricity. She managed to get to her knees before she had to stop. "What's wrong?" she demanded. Nothing seemed out of place when she looked back towards the dead Gate, but then she heard the four quiet taps. Not the drumbeats in her head, but the sound of knuckles against glass.

"Is everything all right?" Wilf asked, tapping on the glass of the booth he'd trapped himself in. "Could you let me out now? I need to call Donna…"

"He will knock four times."

"No," Viera whimpered. We were so close. We were so close.

"Listen to me," the Doctor said, cupping her face in his hands until she looked at him. He was hurting too, and scared, but he'd buried it deep beneath a mask of strength. "I don't have much time. The Master left the nuclear bolt running and it's gone into overload. All the excess radiation gets vented inside there," he said, pointing to the booth where Wilf stood, listening with growing dread. A warning light pulsed over his head. "Vinvocci glass to contain it. 500,000 rads are about to flood that thing."

"Better let me out then," Wilf said, shifting nervously.

The Doctor closed his eyes, pain and shades of bitterness flickering across his expression before he brought them under control. "It's gone critical," he explained, glancing over his shoulder to include Wilf in the conversation. "Touch one control, it floods. Even this thing would set it off." He held up the screwdriver.

But Wilf couldn't get out unless someone in the next booth hit the button, unless someone traded their life for his.

"I'm sorry," Wilf said sincerely. The older man bowed his head, expression filled with pain. "Just leave me." The Doctor was silent and still as Wilf spoke fervently. Viera couldn't tell what he was thinking. "I'm an old man, Doctor. I've had my time. Leave me," Wilf insisted.

A shudder ran across the Doctor's shoulders but he was shaking his head even before Wilf stopped talking. Viera knew where this was going.

Radiation was just another sort of energy, wasn't it? "Let me do it," she said, trying to struggle to her feet. Her limbs wouldn't cooperate though, and all she managed to do was make herself dizzy trying.

The Doctor laid his hands on her shoulders, bending down to talk to her bowed head. She couldn't look at him, watching her frustrated tears drip to the floor instead.

"You can't right now. You know that. It'd kill you," he said. Viera shook her head in denial, though she knew full well he was probably right. She was barely holding herself together as it was. "It's going to be all right. I'll regenerate. I'll still remember you. You'll have a brand new Doctor to travel the stars with."

Viera choked on a sob as he stood. She didn't want a new Doctor, she wanted him. She pulled herself forward, trying to ignore the way her overwhelmed nerves protested every movement. Numbness and pain flared through her body like all her limbs had fallen asleep. Viera gritted her teeth and kept crawling, making her way to the booth on hands and knees.

"Don't. Please, Doctor," she heard Wilf begging distantly. "No don't. Please don't, sir. Please…"

"Wilfred. It's my honor," the Doctor said with quiet sincerity. He'd paused, but Viera was moving too slowly to reach the glass trap before he'd shut the door.

"Don't," she pleaded, finally propping herself into a sitting position, leaning against the booth. She tried to pry it open, but she couldn't find a big enough gap between the wall and the door. "Please," she sobbed one last time, pounding a fist against the clear door.

"It'll be all right," the Doctor muttered, looking away as he pressed the button to open the other booth, sealing himself in. The lock engaged on his door as Wilf's opened and immediately the Doctor's side of the booth flooded with vicious red light. He arched with pain and a groan tore past his gritted teeth. Agony drove him to his knees, though he tried to hold himself up against the clear walls. Viera was crying so hard she could barely see him though the tears, but she didn't look away. She wouldn't let him be alone. She pressed her palms to the glass, and he matched her on the other side for a moment before he slid down, mouth open in a silent cry.

The Doctor collapsed to the floor and curled in on himself with a moan, an ineffectual attempt to protect himself from the pain. Viera whimpered with him as gasps shook his body. Please, make it stop. Please.

Then as quickly as it had started, the red light faded and the Doctor went still. There had been no glow of regeneration, no pull of energy. Viera waited for it, and kept waiting as the Doctor slowly uncurled. He hadn't changed, but then radiation didn't usually kill right away, did it? The Doctor looked grim and oh, so weary as he finally sat up.

"What?" murmured Wilf, confused by the lack of change. The Doctor just stared at them for a moment, dazed. "Hello," Wilf tried.

The Doctor seemed to wake up a bit, raising his eyebrows at Wilf. "Hello," he replied. He hoisted himself to his feet, leaning on the control panel. He tapped a button and nothing happened. "System's dead. I absorbed it all. Whole thing's ka-put." The Doctor pushed against the door and it swung open easily once Viera had scooted back. "Oh, sure. Now it opens."

There was something broken in the Doctor's voice, and Viera knew the answer to her question before she asked it, but she couldn't stop the words from escaping her mouth. "You're still dying, aren't you?" The Doctor flinched and Viera squeezed her eyes closed, biting her lip.

All right. This is… It's going to be fine. At least now I have time to… time to try. I can fix this. I can. Viera took a deep breath and wiped at the tears on her face, ignoring the jolting numbness that flared beneath her skin. God, please let it work.

She repeated that simple prayer as she opened her eyes to see the Doctor scrub the blood away from his face. The cuts and bruises were gone. "It's started," he sighed, staring at his hands.

She repeated her prayer as Wilf gave a murmur of understanding and enfolded the Doctor in a hug. She kept repeating as they eventually separated, neither of them with completely dry eyes. She prayed as they helped her to her feet and the three of them stumbled to the TARDIS without encountering another soul. She kept on praying, the same four words over and over in time with the drumbeats she still heard in her mind.

Please let it work. Please let it work. Please…

The TARDIS' song was soothing against the raw, burnt channels of her spirit. The Doctor and Wilf helped her to the bench, then the Doctor went to get the Vodivost box. Wilf sat next to her, silent for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually.

Viera shook her head, then decided that was a bad idea as bright flashes swarmed the edges of her vision. "It's not your fault. If you hadn't saved the technician, it would have been him in there, and…" Was it awful to say she thought the Doctor would rather die for a friend than a stranger? Was it even true or were those just her own feelings? "It still would have happened. It wasn't your fault." She supposed it was the Master's, if it was anyone's. He was the one who started it all, even if he had tried to save the Doctor at the end.

She couldn't muster any anger. Viera repeated her prayer and clung to her hopes. She was debating whether she should let Wilf know that there was still a chance when the Doctor returned with the box. She couldn't say anything in front of him.

The Doctor put the box down on the grating and Viera knelt in front of it. She laid a palm on either side and poured all the stolen life-force into it. The Vodivost runes glowed blue as it drew the power from her channels. It was far easier than collecting the Master's energy had been. The sound of drums and the presence at the back of her mind were the last things to slip away. Finally her mind was silent once more.

Viera sat back with a quiet groan, stretching her aching arms above her. The painful tingle was gone, but there was an ache left in the aftermath. Still, she felt well enough, all things considered.

The Doctor caught one of her hands before she could lower it and placed an oblong device in her grasp. She recognized that tool well enough; it was created for epidermis repair, more specifically for the newly charred design burnt into her skin. Some of the burns were in places she'd rather not heal in public, so she excused herself and stumbled off to her room.

Viera hurried the healing as quickly as she could, spending the most time on her hands and neck: places the Doctor could see. She didn't want him worrying, but she didn't know how long he might have before he started regenerating and she had to be there when it started. Viera changed her clothes to rid herself of the smell of burnt skin, then hurried back to the control room.

The Doctor had changed clothes as well, or at least had repaired the one he had. There were no rips from the glass, but the suit looked much the same otherwise. Perhaps the tie was different.

The three of them were quiet as the TARDIS took them a short ways away, to Wilf's home. Viera felt ill with worry, but she did her best to bury it under determination.

Please let it work.

When they landed, she gave Wilf a hug, intending to stay in the TARDIS while the Doctor said his goodbyes, the way he had the last time they'd been leaving companions behind.

"It'll be all right," she whispered as she clung to Wilf. She lifted her chin when she finally pulled back, refusing to cry. "I'm glad you came," Viera said honestly. Wilf nodded, his own eyes red around the edges. He patted her on the shoulder, then left through the door the Doctor was holding open. The Time Lord nodded to Viera once and went outside.

"I think I'm going to need your help again," Viera told the TARDIS when they were alone. Or mostly alone. She glanced down at the Vodivost box tucked beneath the bench. "You had better not be more trouble than you're worth." She glared at the Master's containment cell until she started to feel silly, making faces at a box. Viera sighed and ran her fingers along the edge of the console.

Please let this work.

The Doctor came back from dropping off Wilf with a determination in his steps. He went to the TARDIS controls and immediately began flipping switches.

"Where are we going?" Viera asked, feeling a flutter of nervousness at his set expression.

"To get my reward," the Doctor muttered.

"What?"

The Doctor finally looked at her and the stern lines around his mouth and eyes softened a little. He paused with his hand resting over a switch. "I'm running out of time. I'd like to- There are things in my friends lives that I can change, that I can fix. I can see those moments now, so close to-" So close to dying. "I'd like to fix them while they'll still recognize me." He flipped the switch and the TARDIS took off with its familiar shudder.

The Doctor landed the TARDIS without problems, but he wavered a moment once the ship was still.

"Do you want me to stay here?" Viera offered quietly. The Doctor hesitated, like he wasn't quite sure of the answer himself, but he nodded. "Okay. I'll be right here," she promised. He left without another word.

Viera wished she could have explained her plans, but she'd worried he'd try to talk her out of it or worse, simply refuse to let her close enough to try. She couldn't even be sure that she could try until the final regeneration began. She couldn't bear to get his hopes up then fail him.

So she waited as he said his goodbyes, her heart breaking beneath his pain, and she prayed with all her might for the chance to save him.

They made several stops and each time the Doctor's expression got a little stonier and the look his eyes got a bit more desperate. Viera didn't ask who he was seeing; she'd save that for after, maybe. If everything turned out the way she wanted.

The Doctor remained silent, but eventually, when they stopped yet again he held out his hand to her and Viera took it without hesitation. She held to his hand just as hard as he was holding to hers as they walked out of the TARDIS and into a perfect summer day. They'd landed at the edges of a wedding. Viera's eyes watered when she saw the tall red-head dressed in white coming out of the church, hand in hand with her new husband.

Donna. The former companion was grinning like she'd never stop, chatting with her bridesmaids and family. The Doctor and Viera just watch for a while, caught between happiness for their friend and longing for what was lost. They kept their distance. She couldn't be allowed to see them.

"What are we changing here?" Viera asked quietly after a while.

The Doctor shook his head and took a deep breath to steady himself against old memories. "Nothing. Just dropping off a gift."

Viera gave him a questioning look, but even if he'd been inclined to answer he couldn't have finished before they were interrupted. Wilf and Donna's mother hurried up to them.

"There now, same old face. Didn't I say you'd be all right?" Wilf said cheerfully. Viera managed a fragile smile, wondering how long it had been for him. Of course he'd think the Doctor would be all right after so much time. "And they arrested Mr Naismith! It was on the news. Crimes undisclosed! And his daughter. Both of 'em, locked up!"

Viera's smile grew grim but far more sincere at that. At least they couldn't ever get their hands on alien tech they didn't understand again. The world was probably safer with them locked away, even if they hadn't meant to endanger the whole of time.

Wilfred hesitated a bit before he continued, but he had to ask. Obviously it was something that had been on his mind for some time. "But I keep thinking, Doctor... There's one thing you never told me. That woman. Who was she?"

There was no question of which woman he meant. Viera was curious about the Time Lord woman the Doctor had recognized as well, but though they all watching him for an answer, the Doctor just looked away towards the wedding.

"Just wanted to give you this," he said eventually. He handed Wilf a plain, white envelope. "Wedding present. Thing is, I never carry money. So I just popped back in time, borrowed a quid off a really lovely man. Geoffrey Noble, his name was. Have it, he said. Have that on me."

The Doctor waved them on and he watched with Viera as they took the envelope to Donna.

"Geoffrey Noble?" Viera asked as she turned back to the Doctor, unable to stifle one more question.

"Donna's father."

"Oh." Oh. What a perfect wedding gift, even if Donna will never know. "What was in the envelope?"

"Lottery ticket," the Doctor said, the tiniest bit of smugness creeping into his tone. Viera's mouth dropped open in surprise, then she chuckled, imagining the look on Donna's face when she found out, imagining the volume of her voice.

"That's perfect," she said. The Doctor didn't argue.

They watched until Donna tucked her gift away and Wilf and Silvia turned back to wave. Wilf gave a salute as the Doctor turned away and started back to the TARDIS, Viera in hand. She looked back and waved, giving what she hoped was an encouraging smile. It faded as she turned away, but that was okay, because her determination didn't.

The Doctor was beginning to shake as he plotted the course for their next stop. Somehow Viera thought it might be the last. The radiation sickness was killing him, which meant the regeneration had to happen soon or not at all. She wasn't worried that he'd let himself die, but she hated to see him in pain and Viera almost wished they could just get it over with. She was worried about what would happen, but the waiting was intolerable.

They landed again and Viera waited to see whether the Doctor would offer his hand again, but the Time Lord just shuffled his feet nervously. She watched him swallow hard and eye the controls like he was considering taking off again. Then he shook himself, squared his shoulders, and walked out the door. Viera tried not to notice that he stumbled on the way.

He didn't have much longer.

Help me, she pleaded mentally, calling to God and calling to the ship humming around her. Please, please, please let this work. Viera couldn't do anything but pray as she waited. She was as ready as she'd ever be. The only thing left to do was try.

Viera paced around the TARDIS console as she waited, more and more worried as the minutes passed. Was the Doctor taking too long? Should she go look for him? He had wanted to do it alone, but what if he couldn't make it back on his own? He'd been fading even when he left; what if the regeneration started and she wasn't there?

She was halfway to the door when she heard it. Well, perhaps felt it would have been the more accurate term. Ood song filled her thoughts, offering calm and patience. Suddenly she knew exactly where the Doctor was and that he was running out of time, but not so much that he couldn't make it back to her. In her mind's eye she saw him stand and start for the TARDIS again. The song asked her to wait, so she did. She felt the comfort and strength in the harmonies that vibrated through her soul. Perhaps it was meant to be a goodbye; perhaps it wasn't. It got her Doctor back to the TARDIS and that was all that mattered.

The Doctor stepped back into the ship, his usual grin absent as he slumped against the door. He looked so tired; it made Viera's heart ache. Holding off the regeneration long enough to say his final goodbyes had taken such a toll. He'd fought so hard, even knowing he couldn't stop it.

He hardly reacted as the regeneration finally began its first stages. His right hand began to glow with golden light. The Doctor only paused to look at it a moment before stepping closer to the console, exhaustion sapping away his will to fight. Then Viera was in his way.

"Stay with me," she pleaded quietly. She twined her scarred hand with his golden one, feeling the shiver of regeneration beneath. Tears filled her eyes but didn't fall. Viera was scared. There were so many ways her plan could go wrong, so many ways she could fail. But she had to try. He'd done so much, fought so hard; it was her turn to save him. "Stay with me."

The Doctor's stony mask cracked and his expression twisted, pain and sorrow and longing that Viera could feel echoed in her own heart. He wanted to stay. So badly. The hurt in his eyes made her heart feel like it was being turned inside out.

Her reservations and worries about naming her feelings, about exposing them no longer mattered. He'd see it all soon enough anyways. And whatever the name for her emotions was, in that moment Viera knew what she wanted. She reached up to cup his face with her free hand, sent up a silent prayer, and gently pressed her lips against his.

He was tense; she was tentative. Then the moment of uncertainty passed and desperation took over, more than making up for any inexperience on Viera's part. She responded wholeheartedly, love and warmth and want coiling around her heart.

The Doctor kissed her like it was the last thing he'd ever do.

Then she let the power channels open and the overwhelming glow of regeneration shifted its path. The Doctor pulled back with startled eyes, but Viera refused to let go of his hand.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Trust me?" she asked instead of explaining. Dark eyes searched her face, his expression softening at whatever he found.

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed quietly.

Viera smiled shyly and tilted her head to kiss him again. It was slower this time, driven more by longing than fear, though the desperation hadn't eased. Everywhere their skin touched, Viera pulled the heat of regeneration into herself, fighting with all her might to keep it controlled and moving through the power channels rather than spreading through her body or his. She could see the bright gold light behind her closed eyes. In the back of her mind the gentle constant song of the TARDIS changed and grew louder, guiding the power, helping her.

Then the Doctor pulled away, the last of regenerative power gone. He tried to catch his breath as his dying body faltered. He watched Viera with wide eyes as she let go of his hand, her own glowing steadily with stolen power, but he didn't really look worried until she reached for her pendant and pulled out the third shard.

"Viera," the Doctor murmured, his tone low with warning.

"Trust me," she insisted. He looked reluctant, perhaps guessing correctly that she was far more likely to risk her life than his. Still, he didn't move when she pressed the sharp end of the narrow shard into his chest, between his two hearts. There was no resistance from skin or bone as the sharp slid in, but the Doctor hissed as it disappeared and its brand burned on the surface of his pale skin. She could see it glow faintly green beneath his shirt for a moment before it vanished completely.

"You are not allowed to die," Viera reminded him softly.

"You're not allowed to die either," the Doctor countered, brushing brown waves of hair away from her face with a shaking hand. With the shard in place she could feel him dying, cells falling apart, organs threatening to fail.

But Viera could feel the Obetovat Stone as well, the tug on her own soul and the buzz of regenerative power beneath her skin. She said another silent prayer, more plea than words, and wrapped her arms around the Doctor.

"I love you," she whispered, kissing him again. Then she opened the channels, barred her soul, and pushed the healing power back where it belonged, into the Doctor. If she'd done everything right, if her calculations and research and prayers meant anything, the power of the stone would hold the Doctor, her Doctor together. It would keep the current version of the Doctor whole while the regenerative power healed him. If she was wrong… at least she'd fought for him with everything she had.

Viera's consciousness washed away in waves of burning golden light.