A/N - This is an ongoing collection of Doctor Who/Torchwood drabbles and oneshots. They're in no particular order and have no connection to each other. Ratings will be at the top of each chapter but shouldn't go above T, possibly an occasional Torchwood M.
End of Time spoilers, Master POV, PG/K+ I guess?
You could have killed me. You could have, but you didn't. You had the gun. Rassilon had his glove. I had the weapons I had been reborn with. But all you had to do was twitch your finger. You could have done it. You could have ended the drumming once and for all. Those never-ending drum beats. You could have stopped them.
And Gallifrey knows I've done some horrible things to you. We used to be friends. So long ago. And now . . . look at us. Sworn enemies. Polar opposites. You have every reason to hate me.
But you can't. Because that's not who you are.
The sainted Doctor. You don't take lives; you only exploit people into doing it to themselves. Then you run, convince yourself it wasn't your fault because you wouldn't be able to live with yourself otherwise. You don't carry weapons. Never hating, searching for the good in people.
I hated you, though. I swear, I did. I hated you for coming away from the Untempered Schism whole while I was broken. I hated you for being the hero of the universe, over and over and over again, while I was the scourge of it.
Things could have been so different, you know. Rassilon could have picked you . . . Could have sent the signal back to you. Who knows how things might have turned out then? Would I, the Master, have become the hero, while you, the Doctor, became the scourge, making the link and bringing Gallifrey back? Would I have had the courage to use the Moment, to destroy Time Lords and Daleks alike? Or would you have fought the drumbeat, remained sane, so that we could grow up and die in the Time War together?
I hated you. Why didn't you hate me?
But you had the gun. You had every reason to kill me. All you had to do was twitch your finger.
"Get out of the way."
Those five words. Those five words took me back, to a time when we were the best of friends. Those five words were all it took . . . to make me realize that I never really hated you, after all.
So, for once, I listened. I moved. And the link was broken.
And then you were going to die.
"I know."
And then you said that, and the drums stopped. They stopped, and it hurt, and I hated Rassilon for what he had done to me.
"Get out of the way."
I echoed your words, holding out my hands, and thank Gallifrey you understood. I don't know if I would have had the courage to kill you then. But you moved, and then I had a clear shot at Rassilon.
I'm sorry, Doctor. I did something that you would never approve of. But I've done a lot of things like that over the years, haven't I? All those long, long years, fighting each other. Polar opposites. The hero and the scourge.
But now, am I the hero? I sent Gallifrey back. I sacrificed myself so that you didn't have to die with them. You wanted to die, though. You would rather die then regenerate, then, I could see it in your eyes. But I wanted to die too. Without that noise . . . I don't think I could have lived without that noise.
And you are so great. You've stopped me, and you've stopped the Daleks, and the Sontarans, and the Cybermen, and everything else that's ever threatened the Earth, over and over and over again. You deserve a second chance, Doctor, a chance to keep doing what you do best.
Because even though we have different ways of going about it, Doctor, and different reasons, and different feelings about it, when it comes right back to it, we're both murderers. Plain and simple. We've both killed so, so, so many people.
But you do it to save lives. And I did it because I liked it.
So live, Doctor. Keep going. Keep being the hero.
I can't be the scourge anymore. Not without the drums. Because they made me who I am, Doctor, but not as much as you did. Without the drums, there would be no me. Without me, there would be no you.
And without you, I wouldn't be here.