Drumming Song, a doctor who fanfic

A/N I was in English when the plot bunny hit. I couldn't resist its powers. Warning! The first half's a little disturbing.

Disclaimer: The Doctor and Master belong to the genius Russell T Davies and the song is Florence and the Machine's.

* K'sul roughly translates to 'damn!' in Gallifreyan – according to me anyway – it will appear in lots more of my DH fics as my profanity of choice.

Drumming Song

There's a drumming song inside my head that starts when you're around.

The Master was on his knees, his hands gripped over his ears, his eyes tightly shut. His skull throbbed with the roaring rhythm of pounding torment.

It was always there.

It chased him when he ran.

Pounded his thoughts to insanity.

The beating drumsticks destroying his mind...controlling him.

I swear that you could hear it
It makes such an all mighty sound

The Doctor was there. Always there. Watching him, pitying him. The monster inside roared with frustration. He didn't want pity…he was The Master. He didn't need anything any fool dared to offer him. He looked up.

"Can't you hear it?" K'sul! He sounded so weak, so powerless; lying at his enemy's feet.

There's a drumming noise inside my head
That throws me to the ground
I swear that you should hear it
It makes such an all mighty sound

Louder than sirens

Louder and louder and LOUDER. He screamed. It was still there. He curled up in a ball on the metal grating. The drums! They were coming, faster and faster from so far away...

Louder than bells

He had to run, had to flee. He stumbled to his feet, his eyes distant and unfocused.

Sweeter than heaven,

And hotter than hell…

The Doctor's arms closed around him and dragged him away. He tried to flail and writhe away. His strength failed him and he fell against the other Time Lord. The dark curtains of unconsciousness closed around him and he knew no more.

I ran to a tower where the church bells chime
I hoped that they would clear my mind
They left a ringing in my ear
But that drum's still beating loud and clear.

Even in his dreams the drums still found him. He remembered. He remembered all his life, plagued by his insanity. His brilliant mind, his 'stone cold brilliant' mind, it was suppressed and bent to the will of his captors. He was a prisoner inside his own head, and silently he screamed.

Louder than sirens
Louder than bells
Sweeter than heaven
And hotter than hell

Repeated over and over. Faster and faster. Closer….

As I move my feet towards your body
I can hear this beat it fills my head up

And gets louder and louder
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder…

He was in a bed. Where was he? Inside the Doctor's TARDIS, in the infirmary.

"For God's sake I'm not ill," he mumbled. He pushed the starched white covers back and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. The Doctor looked over from the doorway.

"Oh so you're awake then, you took your time." A brief smile flickered across his face.

"Why? How long have I been here? How did I get here, last time I checked I was dead."

"You've been here almost a week in Earth time. You…weren't in exactly the best shape when I brought you on board."

"Yeah but how did I get here?"

"Well you were killing Rassilon with your life energy so the Time Lords cut the link and left you behind in an attempt to save their leader."

"Did it work?" The Master asked bitterly, staring at his boots. A twisted smirk passed across the Doctor's face, it was a little frightening, a little sadistic and just a little bit like the Master.

"Not to my knowledge. Anyway how's the drums? The signal went a little haywire after they cut you off-"

"Lovely."

"-and you went, well, mental." The Master cocked his head to the side for a minute as if considering his reply.

"It's still there but fainter. What did you do?" The conversation was getting a little to friendly for his liking but he was so too curious.

"I used a telepathic wall; it's too strong to block out completely and you'll have to stay within a mile radius of me, but it works."

"And what happens if I don't want to stay near you?"

"You die."

"I don't have a choice then?"

"Nope."

Great.

The End

A/N: Please review, it gives me this distant hope that someone out there might actually care about what I write.