Pain and coldness.
Those are the first things the Master feels as he wakes up. A stream of memories rushes in his mind and he instantly remembers where he is and why his body hurts.
He's in the Time Lock. He's in Gallifrey. He's in his cell.
Of course, he's a prisoner after all the things he did, and he wonders if the day will come when he's set free. By his Doctor.
The Master scolds himself, how could he think of hoping the Doctor, his enemy, would come and save him?
No, he wouldn't come. Getting in the Time Lock meant two things: You release everything in it, or you get stuck inside it.
The Master was completely sure that his Doctor would never release the Time Lock, nor would he ever give up his apes and all his trips through time and space just to come and save him.
Him. The one who had caused him so much pain.
No, his Doctor would never do that. He wasn't as much of an idiot as he usually made himself.
And yet, the Master's not able to let go of that little hope, since his only sane thoughts these days are those about his Doctor.
What would he be doing? Did he regenerate? Did he change his ape for a new one? Where was he? When was he? Was he in danger?
Well, of course he was in danger. He was always in danger. He was the Doctor; he attracted danger as if he were the fire in a moth's way. He never stopped running. Maybe he was running right now.
…And maybe, just maybe, he spared a thought for him every once in a while.
The sound of a door opening and closing snapped him out of his thoughts, but he never made a move to see who entered his prison. The Master listened as footsteps approached him, heard the swishing of fabric as whoever entered his confinement kneeled before him, felt as they raised their arm probably to hit him. He closed his eyes as they brought it down, as if closing them would take tingling pain away.
He heard as they repeated the same thing they always say while they beat him up.
"You owe us. If it weren't because of us giving you a spare set of regenerations, you'd be dead. You are supposed to be a genius, a master mind when it comes to anything you put your mind on. Find a way to break us free from this Time-Lock, and we will set you free to be with your Doctor. Do it!"
And yet, he didn't do it. Because the Master knew that if the Time Lords were to be set free, everything his Doctor has worked so hard to achieve would be destroyed in a matter of seconds.
He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let that happen. And so, the Master set his mind to work over something else, anything to keep it distracted from thinking up any ideas or plans the Time Lords could (and would, mind you) use.
He tried relentlessly to solve each and every little thing he could conjure in his mind; he even recurred to correct his own grammatical mistakes - in his mind!
The Master tried to concentrate on the pain he felt after the beatings, to count the wounds and scars that littered his whole body, to imagine all the 'what if's and the 'could've been's that his Doctor would've done or was doing.
And it was hard to find something to concentrate on, because they took the drums away.
They gave them, the drums, to him his whole life just so they could come and suddenly rip them away, to leave him feeling vulnerable… And the silence, oh, the silence was intolerable!
And it made the Master wonder how his Doctor put up with it his whole life. How could he put up with the silence? He barely could keep his sanity in check before, and now without the drums it's taking him everything he was to keep control of himself. And it was hard to do so, really hard.
And was that why his Doctor kept running? Why he kept throwing himself into extremely dangerous situations? Was it all just to keep his mind working, to keep the silence at bay?
The Master didn't know, and he didn't really care. He was way too battered to give a shit, so he focused all the energy he had left to keep up his task:
Don't let them use you to destroy him, destroy his work. Don't let them use you to escape.
And while he kept his mind working, the Master wondered what he was. He became the Master just after he received the drums; and when the Master came, Koschei died, but…
But without the drums, he wasn't the Master; he was just Koschei, Theta's best friend. And Koschei wondered while going through the Master's memories, how was he capable of doing those things to his best friend and love interest?
But Koschei knew that now that he was back, he was alone. Theta was no longer Theta, he was the Doctor. Theta became the Doctor after he started running, and Koschei's hearts clenched painfully when an earlier thought of the Master hit him.
The Master was completely sure that his Doctor would never release the Time Lock, nor would he ever give up his apes and all his trips through time and space just to come and save him.
He was the Doctor; he attracted danger as if he were the fire in a moth's way. He never stopped running. Maybe he was running right now.
Those thoughts kept echoing in Koschei's mind, making his hearts clench more and more each moment.
.
…His Doctor would never release the Time Lock, nor would he ever give up his humans and all his trips through time and space just to come and save him…
…He was the Doctor… He never stopped running…
...The Doctor… Never stopped running…
.
And Koschei wondered if he would ever feel the mind of his beloved, because his faces changed constantly and it was a lottery, so he didn't really care about the body. Koschei cared about his mind and his feelings, and he wondered what he was now. Was he still a man? Was he the same man the Master saved?
Koschei wondered what he, himself, actually was. If he was known as Theta's best friend, now that Theta was no more, what was he? Was he the best friend of a deceased boy? Or was he turning into what was supposed to be the Doctor's best companion?
Koschei didn't know. And he really didn't care at all.
Explosions were heard, shouts from people whose voices he remembered because of his daily beatings.
Someone's trying to break in.
Koschei desperately thought it was his- no, the Doctor, who was coming to save him.
And he thinks the instead of his because the Doctor's not his anymore. He hasn't been since Theta and Koschei disappeared. And now Koschei's back and he has got nothing at all. If Koschei called himself the Master again, what would he be Master of? He would be the Master of nothing, and so, he keeps calling himself Koschei over and over again; he tries to lie to himself so he thinks things never changed.
But alas, Koschei knows that's just wishful thinking. It's probably some stray Dalek that's found his way over there and decided he should exterminate everything he sees.
Yes, that's the most likely scenario.
.
.
.
Hello! So, this is my first DW story, really had this idea stuck in my head for a while. Um, I cut this fanfic short, just up to where the angst hit the feels, but there is another part I didn't upload where the Master becomes Missy. And an alernative where the Master escapes, not regenerating, but on the verge of it, and the Doctor (haven't specified wether it's 10th or 11th, could probably turn out being 12th.) finds him and nurses him back to full health, and the Master (Or, Koschei, as I turned him out to be) decides wether he stays or creates his own version of the drums, in a desperate attempt to keep his sanity.
Yup. Nothing weird at all. So! If someone want the sequel (One of the two... Or both) I'll upload it in this same story, just as chapters.
Thank you for reading, please review, and have a good day/night/whatever!
And bowties are cool! ~ 3