Prologue

"No! You can't make me!"

"I have to; it's the only way."

There was a raw desperation on the Master's face that the Doctor found new and disconcerting. He watched in despair as the Master began to run his hands frantically through his hair, almost pulling, erratically dancing from foot to foot. It was difficult to watch this agony, but the Doctor knew it was the best he could do for the moment.

He felt the cold watch in his hand, tracing the Gallifreyan circles with a light fingertip. He imagined what it would be like to hold it once it was filled with a Time Lord soul; warm and comforting. He'd never felt one that contained Time Lord DNA before. He'd only seen his own before and after, left empty, and it was something hardly ever successfully achieved.

The Master through an aggressive kick at the console causing the Doctor to start in surprise and immediately run round it to the Master's side. He tentatively put a hand on the distressed man's shoulder, which seemed to only further aggravate him.

"I promised to keep you safe," He said firmly. "And I will, but you have to let me."

The master looked up with two bloodshot eyes into the Doctor's sympathetic brown ones. That all too familiar stoic look made his stomach flip in grim anticipation.

"Please," He murmured. "Don't make me beg."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. He'd expected a fuss. He'd imagined kicking and screaming. Maybe a couple of light scratches and injuries, but not this, and this was worse. The Master might have a thing for seeing the Doctor on his knees and begging for his life, but to see it in reverse felt extremely unnatural.

"Then, please don't make me." He held out the watch, wanting the Master to take it and accept this for himself without force. The Master contemplated it for a moment, then whacked his hand away causing the watch to leap out of the Doctor's palm and thud and skid across the metal grate.

"I'd rather die than become a pathetic little human." The corner of his mouth twitched as he saw this comment made the Doctor wince. He still had some control over the man, even if he was a prisoner. "I endured it for seventeen years, a frail old man, my image was ruined. My infamy destroyed."

"You'd still look like yourself. Still young, still..." He trailed off trying to think of an adjective that could best be used to describe the Master. The fact was, he had no idea how this would truly turn out. He knew that with the Master's Time Lord DNA safely trapped inside a watch it would be much harder for those that wanted to find him to get to him. Not only that, but he'd find a safe spot, somewhere in the past, somewhere quiet, where they could hide. He wasn't sure what kind of human the Master would be. The Professor had been fairly pleasant before he'd opened his watch. Perhaps it would be an improvement. But the Doctor wasn't after a personality change. He needed the Master safe and this was the best idea he had.

"You have no choice."

"I have a choice!" His voice was in a bitter range, it grated painfully on the Doctor. "My mind is stronger than you think. My mind will resist-"

The Doctor cut him off, swiftly leaning forward to place a hand on each of the Master's temples.

"No...no! Stop it!"

The Master could only protest with voice, he was rooted to the spot, held in place by the connection of Time Lord skin on Time Lord skin. The Doctor pressed their foreheads together, blocking his mind to those drums he always struggled through whenever they communicated like this. This was going to be one-way, the Doctor's mind insisted, as he allowed his thoughts to flow through into the Master's mind.

The Master watched helplessly as the image of him trapped, tortured and killed flashed across his eyes. He saw the Doctor begging for his life to be spared, saw him sacrificing himself, saw him allowing the world to collapse in order to save him. The Doctor was showing him the deepest nightmares in his brain. Visions of the Time Lords returning, only to destroy him and his plans for power and control contorted in front of him. The Master thought it was careless, dangerous. It made him weak. But, while one heart was well and truly black and twisted, the other had some light left.

The sparks between their skin stopped abruptly as the Doctor pulled away. "Do you see now?"

The Master was silent as the Doctor retrieved the fallen pocket-watch from the floor.

"When will you free me?" He asked quietly.

"When it's safe."

He handed the Master the watch, pleased to see that even though he was holding it loosely and reluctantly, he hadn't thrown it across the console room.

There wasn't any more he needed to say. Crouched down and removing a panel, he pulled out the terrifying metal device used to break down cells and rewrite DNA. He turned back to see the Master staring closely at the carvings on the watch.

"It's..."

"My name, yes." The Doctor saw that the Master was holding his breath. How long had it been since they'd called each other by their first names? Not since the Academy days surely. Maybe once or twice after that, or was that a dream?

"It's the only one I had. Well, only one that was capable of containing you."

It was times like this when the Master remembered he was still the Doctor's prisoner. He could fight and scream and shout and bite, but at the end of the day, within the TARDIS walls, he was under his control. The Doctor had tried to make it seem like they were just old friends travelling. He'd shown him galaxies and exploding stars, but only from the safety of the TARDIS doors. He hadn't stepped on solid ground in months. The Doctor wouldn't risk it. It was a cruel sort of irony that he was going to gain a certain amount of freedom in this plan.

He felt the metal contraption placed on his head and clenched his teeth. He hadn't given up fighting. He knew the Doctor hadn't seen inside his thoughts during those moments and he knew that when the time finally came the Doctor would be unprepared.

"This is going to hurt," The Doctor warned with a concerned expression.

"Good."

"What?"

"I said, good. I want you to watch me suffer." He smiled wryly, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't give me that you pathetic excuse for a Time Lord."

The Doctor had won, but the last thing the Master saw was the defeat in his face in that moment when he flicked the switch to start the process. And then came the darkness and the pain and the sounds of agonising screams and then the Master's body went limp.

The Doctor caught him before he hit the ground, carefully tucking the watch away in his jacket pocket, before lifting the limp man and carrying him to one of the TARDIS bedrooms. It would be a while before he woke up and in that time he needed to find the perfect time and place for them to blend in.

He reached down to touch the Master's upturned palm. Nothing. None of the usual electricity that passed between the touch of two Time Lords. He gave it a squeeze, more for his own benefit than the Master's, knowing he couldn't feel it and knowing he wouldn't know who he was even if he could.

"Goodnight Harry," He said solemnly to the sleeping human before softly closing the bedroom door.