A/N : Hello again ;) Here comes the second chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it ;)

Disclaimer : I don't own Doctor Who or any of its characters, they all belong to the BBC, Moffat and the actors.

Title : Per Chaos et Tenebras

Summary : well, a Twissy story beginning at the cemetery, and evolving from then on. (I still don't know where this is going, which is a tad embarrassing/annoying)

Rating : T, but may go up in later chapters (I don't know yet).

Chapter II : Tempestas animi

CVLPA ET LACHRIMAE

Clara had just gone home and the Doctor hurried to put the TARDIS in orbit. Faster, faster, quick, quick, quick! He had to get away from Earth as fast as possible, before he crashed on the ship's floor.

He grabbed the banister and made his brisk way to the console, flicking levers and pushing buttons, sending the ship to the Vortex, before clutching the side of the console. He was clinging to it so tightly his joints were white. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to inhale as he recalled the events at the cemetery that were torturing him so.

Panic! Shock! Pain! Anger! Affection – deeprooted! Love – so much it hurts! Guilt – so strong it is killing him!

"Aaaargh! Guilt! Guilt! Guilt! Guilt! Why the guilt ?! "

She was the one who had tried to take over Earth and convert all its inhabitants – whether living or dead – to Cybermen!

And whatever for ?! To get his fucking attention ?!

"H-How –How could she think that I… ?"

He ran an hand over his face, his eyebrows crossed. He sighed. Of course, she would have. That was the way the Master always acted : making up new plans of conquest, trying to make him his ally, trying to turn him away from everything and everyone else. No, it should not have surprised him that she had cheated death –again. No, it should not surprise him that she would give him an army –of Cybermen, of all things! – for his birthday.

Then, Clara… He sighed again. She had acted the way anyone would, trying to take revenge. Yet he had felt anger. Such anger! What?! She would force his hand?! That Missy had to receive some kind of punishment –that was true. That humans might want to take some part in its decision… - he had to admit to their right in the matter. But HE was the one who was to decide – hadn't they made him President ?- and he could never want Missy, The Mistress/The Master, Koschei, his friend dead. At the very worst he would have kept her in custody in the TARDIS, with him, never to leave the ship. But to have her killed?!

And the girl had felt his deep connection to the Time Lady, his hesitation, his unwillingness to hurt her. Indeed, the reasoning she used on him was both logical and frightening. Mostly because it seemed sound, because it was powerful. Yes, she had basically told him to get his Gallifreyan ass out of the way so she could shoot her intended target!

The Doctor was forcing himself to inhale and exhale slowly, trying to relax his body, to put his hands off the console as his brain showed him again how he had preferred to take it upon himself to kill Missy.

"And why was that ? Why the fuck did I have to do that?!" he sighed again, resigned this time. "Yeah, I wanted to spare Clara, she couldn't have lived with herself once the shock would have passed. And, yes, I wanted to keep that act private, just between s/he and I. Mostly, I hoped…"

That last part, he could not yet admit to himself. He had hoped he would have the nerve to betray one friend to save another: betray Clara, save Missy. He didn't want to have to live in a universe, a dimension, where he would be the sole remaining Time Lord. And maybe she could have become better, stopped wishing to rule the universe, and they could have been friends again. Of course, in their own twisted way, they had remained friends… of sorts.

"Yes, I wanted my friend back too."

That truth, the TARDIS was now forcing him to utter it, if only in the secret of their link. He had wanted Missy here for safekeeping. But who would have been kept safe? – that was a question he was not prepared to answer. He was smiling now, a rueful smile. He hoped –perhaps against hope – that she had yet again cheated death.

SPES, IRA ET PROBRVM

His eyes fell to the levers at his right.

Maybe… maybe Missy did actually offer him more than an army. After all, she knew him well. There was no chance she could have really believed he would accept the army, even though part of him wanted one. He was too scared of the power, and she thought him too much of an hypocrite –since she saw them as so similar.

He knew she offered him herself, genuinely, as a friend, a companion, or a prisoner. To him, that was the real birthday present, as bittersweet as seeing her defeated and submissive had been.

Submissive indeed, she even would accept the shackles, the prison. 'If you like' she had said. Her countenance was demure, her voice broken, her eyes defeated, anxious, agitated. And yes, he had wanted her with him. And that was one the reasons he now felt such profound despair.

His eyes grew wide as they reached the column, seemingly seeing it for the first time. She had given many things today, including the mix of angst, aggravation, excitement and love (?) that were the cocktail of his emotions at every one of their encounter. He chuckled lightly.

She had given him the coordinates of Gallifrey. Maybe it was a parting gift, maybe a secret she would have revealed later. Maybe she had still wanted him to be able to reach their native planet, even without her.

The Doctor shot up. On the console, he pulled and flicked levers, he pushed buttons. A few minutes later, he was at the designated coordinates.

Full of a trepidation no one would have expected of him had they seen him a few minutes before, he opened the doors of the sentient ship, not yet daring to look or smile. The Time Lord opened his eyes to darkness. Gallifrey was not here. The only thing present at this moment in time was the pitch black of space.

"No! No! Wh-Where !? No! She couldn't…! She…!" His thought scattered in every direction, his brain slowly and painfully grasping the idea that she had lied to him again, probably out of spite.

In silence, he closed the doors. He grabbed the banister tightly, and turned back to the console. As soon as he touched it, he exploded. The emotions he was barely holding in burst out in ineffable fury. The hurricane in him broke out and his violence was allowed full reign.

Body tense, eyebrows crossed, eyes flashing, teeth bared, he lifted a fist and brought it down strongly, hitting the console of his TARDIS with full force.

Again! Again and again, he hit it and hit it and hit it! The rhythm of his fists matched the pace of his silent thoughts.

"Liar! Liar ! Liar liar liar! Bitch! Liar ! Fool ! Idiot ! Bampot!" He was angry at himself as much as he was angry at her.

Again and again, he hit, and again and again! And the sound of his blows reverberated by the ship's walls the only noise in the room –until utterly spent, he stopped moving. Then and only then, he let out a timid whimper.

He was as exhausted as he was sad, as sad as he was ashamed. He sat on the couch and tried to communicate his feelings and emotions to the TARDIS. But while she understood her Time Lord, she couldn't forgive so easily this last stunt.

He sighed again and fell back on the couch. Soon the exhaustion got the better of him, and he fell asleep.

TBC…

A/N: What did you think ?

"Tempestas animi" means "Storms in the heart" in Latin

"Culpa et lachrimae" means "Guilt and tears"

"Spes, ira et probrum" means "Hope, ire and shame"