The dizziness and dismay came in waves as the Doctor's stomach wrings itself with nerves. The stinging in his flushed cheeks reminds him of the hot flicker of sparks that licked his face. He can recall the deep red that blurred his vision. But not the pain, nor the violence inflicted on the only thing of value, the only thing that was still tangible from his damned planet. The usual clicks and hums of the TARDIS were stripped from his mind and the smoke from the console wraps around his wrists. He realizes his transgressions.
The Doctor leans forward after a few moments, letting his reluctant tears finally spill over. He flexes his knuckles over the console as reality sets in. Bloodied fingers slide on the console buttons, quick to delete any trace's of Missy's deception. Of Gallifreyan coordinates.
You win
He should take umbrage at the type of thoughts that swirl in his mind, but he lets them play out with a twinge of pleasure. The trigger pulled, the button pressed. In that fleeting moment, he would have killed the Master.
As fate would have it, his time for reflection and self-chastisement for thinking so bitterly would have to come later. A snap of a sonic boom erupts in the console room before a blue glow encapsulates the TARDIS. And she's there, surging into his existence through the flash of sapphire. She crashes to the ground as her body contorts against the metal floor.
When her frame stills, The Doctor transfixes on how her black dress wraps around her like a shroud. It's all he can do to maintain his composure.
Her breathing is shallow for a moment as he observes her, unsure of what to do. She claws through her tangled hair and unscrews her eyes. Peering up to the looming Timelord in front of her, her focus connects to his pained icy blues. Not knowing whether he was ready to cradle her or crush her, she offers him a meek smile.
"Oh damn." She presses an arm to a bruised shoulder and winces. "Wrong TARDIS."
Before the Doctor has a moment to respond properly, the Master makes a leap for the console and palms several levers into her hand. "Type 40 TARDISes are so feeble."
With a smirk, she pulls them toward her with full force.
"No!"
He manages to gasp before his breath escapes him completely. The TARDIS lurches under Missy's control and pulls him off of his feet. Stumbling violently with the changed trajectory, his head connects to the edge of the stairs with a loud crack.
"Welcome back."
A mocking voice sinks into his ears as he's greeted back into consciousness.
"Master." He manages to communicate in one word grunts of pain, but the way his hollowed eyes flood with anger spoke volumes.
He tries to pull his hands up to his face to nurse his aching head before realizing his colleague has left him in a restrictive imprisonment against the Captain's chair. Frayed wiring gutted from the TARDIS burn against his chest as the ropes of his captivity. Warm blood trickles down his brow, but he can do little to stop it falling onto his eyelashes and into his line of vision.
Missy turns her head toward the Timelord as she tries to waft smoke away from the damaged console.
"You really did a number on your time machine, Doctor." She pauses for a moment and yanks out more of the wiring from under the console. "Then again, so did I."
"W-why?" Communication proved difficult with the sharp twinges of pain interrupting his thoughts. He licks his lips and tries his question again. "Why did you lie?"
He knew the answer, of course, was to strip him of any hope. To leave him vulnerable. But he wanted to hear an answer fall from her mouth. After all, she was quick to betray the same friend she spent a lifetime building an army for.
"Lie about what?" She replies absentmindedly as she manipulates more levers on the console. "Oh, about the coordinates." She crosses her arms and takes a few swift steps toward the Doctor. "But I didn't!"
She feigns disappointment and drops her hands dramatically to her sides. "Doesn't even ask how I'm feeling after the mean ol' Brigadier tried to off me. Typical."
"You learned from past mistakes," The Doctor groans as he tries shifting the pressure of the constraints off of his chest. "Made sure your allies couldn't shoot you."
Missy nods in agreement, pleased with the Doctor's attentiveness. "I programmed the Cybermen to turn any targeted shots against me into a teleport beam. Just in case." She breaks into a sharp grin and points toward the Gallifreyan coordinates now returned to the screen.
"To those coordinates exactly. Gave them to you just in case your Justice League down on earth found a way to take hold of my TARDIS. Set to materialize in this bit of blank space if my cyber-boys attempted an assassination a la Mrs. Saxon."
The Doctor fidgets with an air of impatience and irritation. "You've failed to prove your honesty in this scheme, whatever it is."
"Oh alright," Missy rolls her eyes. "I did lie just a bit. Obviously those aren't thecurrent coordinates of Gallifrey."
Darkness dots the Doctor's vision, much to his growing frustration. His head hangs a little closer to his chest, but he maintains his icy stare toward the Master. "Why are you doing this?"
Rolling her eyes, Missy throws a thumb toward the console. "Took down your safe guards." Missy leans close to examine the Doctor's injuries and presses her fingertips toward the gash on his forehead. "Bit of a struggle, she put up a fight, but consider yourself the proud owner of a paradox machine. Again. I don't know the current coordinates, but we're going to find out."
"You're an idiot," The Doctor hisses through clenched teeth as pain spreads across his head. He gets the memo, understands her makeshift plan. His eyes flutter as he forces himself to stay conscious, much to Missy's enjoyment. "It'll never work."
Missy stays silent for a moment, soaking in his reaction.
"Oh. You really don't know, do you?" Dipping her hands into her pockets, she retrieves the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. "You poor, daft old man. Moping across the universe because you thought your precious home was still Timelocked."
"Even...even if that were true you'd put us right back into the Time War."
The Doctor's voice comes in a silent growl, more assertive than he's ever been with this incarnation of the Master. He tries to hide his stinging uncertainty. "This isn't the way."
"Of course it's the way. Forget about the laws of time for just one second, Doctor. Here's our chance to try for a pre-war Gallifrey, just you and I."
His eyebrows furrow as a wire-entangled hand tries to swipe at the screwdriver. "No."
She clicks the mechanism on the sonic and the Doctor watches weakly as his binds break apart and fall to the floor. The quick release of pressure against his chest causes him to slump forward, and Missy catches his face in her hands. She eyes the Doctor's pale features as her own face softens.
"No time for sleeping, Doctor. You know I need you for this."
She pulls his weight onto her shoulder and lifts him from the leather chair. Letting his feet drag underneath him, she all but shoves his unconscious form onto the telepathic circuitry grooved within the console.
"I doubt your TARDIS will let me play around, so you'll have to do."
Missy wraps her arms over his and eases his long fingers onto the circuits. She's careful in movement now, knowing full well this would be a nasty connection. With all safe guards erased from the TARDIS, the time machine would be hunting like a bloodhound for the destination that has long been forbidden.
"Think about those beautiful orange skies."
She's cooing into his ear as she lets the machine take him. Panicked eyes snap open, wildly looking for relief only to be blinded by the intrusion of his memories.
She grips the Doctor's shoulders and feels his muscles tense under the strain of the psychic link. "Imagine all those dull bureaucratic types littered around the citadel." Missy digs her fingernails into his shoulders as he arches his back in discomfort and tries to step away.
"Just try not to think of their bodies burning. You're right, I don't want to see the Time War again."
The Doctor's breath hitches as pain radiates between the connection. "Stop this," he cries as he's blinded by memories of silver and orange hues. The Academy. The barn on the outskirts of civilization. So many places he called home. He could think of something else to save him from what lies ahead. Anything to stop him reliving another Time War. But his deep-seeded longing to cling onto any fragment of his planet brings Gallifreyan memories to the forefront of his mind.
The TARDIS screeches to a halt moments later, and the Doctor crumples to the floor when the connection releases him.
"I think that worked!" The Master beams with joy as she offers the Doctor a hand of support. He waves her off and leans over to catch his breath.
"We'll ruin everything," The Doctor says coldly before alarm bells consume the air.