Author's Note: As all of the people who have reviewed, favourited, or alerted my stories know, I like to reply to all these things with a little thank you as a show of appreciation. I've always thought that if you could take the time to read and do whatever to my story, then I could damn well find the time to say thanks. :)

Since the 2nd episode I've had a gold rush of reviews, favourited and alerted stories, and have had people subscribing to my account like there's no tomorrow. I think I sent everyone a thank you PM, but if I didn't I'm sorry and thank you. There were so many I got very confused! XD

Well... here's chapter 2. Enjoy!

"Am crashing! Am crashing! Arh!" Another pillar fell with a triumphant roar. The Doctor had given up trying to do anything some time ago, and was just clinging on for dear life. "Come on, girl! You can do it!"

The TARDIS gave another shuddering roar, before bumping to a halt. The Doctor made his way gingerly over to the doors, which were now without glass. He eased open the door, somewhat worried that if he threw it open like he normally would, it would fall off.

Sticking his head outside, he could see he was in the middle of a field. A large, empty field.

He yelped as the TARDIS suddenly began to topple backwards. Jumping out just in time, he watched as his ship came to rest on her side in the mud.

"Oh dear." That seemed a bit inadequate really.

Why had his previous self attempted to stop the regeneration? All it meant now was more work for him. He sighed, hauling himself halfway up over the TARDIS, before gasping in pain and falling back.

"Knew there was something I'd forgotten." He grimaced in pain, clutching his stomach. "Regeneration…" He folded to the ground, unconscious.

"There's something over my head. There's something over my head. There's something over my head. There's…"

"He's been like that for the last hour." The Brigadier shook his head. "Are you sure that's the Master?"

"Oh, yeah." Jack nodded darkly. "I'm sure." They looked back at the screen.

"Blood. Blood everywhere. Fire. We're burning." The Master let out an insane laugh. "Pushing you back, I am. Never gonna let you hurt… hurt…" He fell into the laughter again.

"The Master I knew was never like this." The Brigadier spoke with a hint of pity in his voice.

"How was he when you knew him? He's always been this way, far as I'm concerned."

"He was…" The Brigadier paused, searching for the right words. "Clever. Always at the same level as the Doctor. He was the enemy, but the Doctor seemed to admire him. I don't know why." He stopped. Jack was staring at him. "What? Just because I never asked the Doctor about the Master, doesn't mean I didn't notice things."

Jack turned away. He didn't know what to do. On one hand, the man in front of him had caused him pain beyond imagining, as well as killing countless millions of humans. No one deserved to die more than him. On the other though, Jack could remember the Doctor's heart broken sobs as the Master died, and couldn't help but wonder at how happy the Doctor would be to find out he wasn't the last of kind.

He sighed, wishing he was the same man as he had been before he'd met the Doctor. Then, there would be no question. The Master would have died, horribly and painfully if possible. But now… could he kill the Master knowing that the Doctor would hate forever if he found out?

Jack sighed again, retrieved his phone from his pocket, and flipped it open.

Martha was just lying down to sleep when her phone rang. There were advantages to being a freelance agent, and bedding comfort wasn't one of them so, as she was rummaging through her backpack for her phone, she managed to swear 18 times. Must be a new record, she thought, as she flipped her phone open.

"Hello?"

"Martha?" Jack's voice was crackly and disjointed.

"Jack?"

"Yeah." There was a pause, and when Jack spoke again he was clearer. "You okay?"

"Well…" Martha looked around at her cramped accommodations, pathetic excuse for a bed, the cold spam she'd abandoned all hope of eating, and her husband's empty bed. "I'm fine," she answered.

"Good." Jack's voice was warm. "I need your help if it's not too much trouble?"

"Sure. With what?" She moved back, leaning against the wall.

"I've got someone here that the Doctor probably wants, but I don't know what I should do. I mean, everyone wants to kill him… Hell, I want to kill him, but I know that the Doctor will be pissed and I--"

"Jack!" Martha interrupted. "Slow down. Who is it?"

"What would you do?" Jack asked suddenly.

Martha took a deep breath. "I can't tell you if I don't know who it is."

"Okay… There's an alien, yeah?"

"Sure."

"Well, that alien wants to kill the Doctor."

"Then kill the alien," Martha said without hesitation.

"Therein lies my problem," Jack replied slowly. "The Doctor wants to… help the alien. And would be… angry if we killed him without talking to the Doctor first."

"Does the alien pose a threat?"

"Yes," Jack answered at once. "He's one of the most dangerous things you can come across in the galaxy."

Martha considered. "Shall I come in?"

"No," Jack answered a little too quickly. "It's fine. I just wanted to get your opinion… It doesn't matter. Never mind." He hung up.

"You all right?" Mickey entered the small room, dropping his backpack and almost falling onto his bed.

Martha chewed her lip, before rising, her decision made. "I've got to head off for a few days, okay?"

"Are you all right?" Mickey stood back up wearily.

"Yeah." She gathered her things quickly, shouldering her pack. "You'll be all right for a few days?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Be safe."

"I will," she promised, before kissing him on the cheek and moving off into the night, in the general direction of UNIT HQ.