Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favour fire.

The Doctor hadn't slept much as he noticed the first faded rays of dawn land on his pillow. Staring up at the ceiling, hands clasped on his stomach, he let out a deep cathartic sigh.

If they really were angels and not just some local legend whipped up over a couple of scary looking statues then his entire plan was about to slip through his fingers. He'd need to take the TARDIS as far away as possible, and the Master? Well, maybe he could put him in hyper sleep or something, but that still didn't solve the problem.

Feeling like a breath of fresh air would do him good he moved the window and undid the claps. The fractured wood screeched as he drew up the heavy window, letting it go when it was wide enough to stick his head out. It tentatively creaked down a millimetre before dropping the rest of the way straight onto the Doctor's hand.

He let out an exclamation of pain and staggered back, clutching his stinging wrist. That was going to leave one ugly bruise.

"Doctor?"

He heard the concerned voice outside his door and hurriedly smoothed his hair back to look more put together.

"I'm fine!" He called quickly, before opening the door wide and smiling uncomfortably. "Good morning Harry! You're looking well, want some breakfast? Good, me too!"

"Slow down there Doctor, what was that noise? Everything al right?"

"Fine, fine. Just a little trouble with the window."

The Master squinted at his overly enthusiastic face. His eyes began to swiftly scan the rest of the Doctor for a sign of anything out of the ordinary.

The Doctor's hand was placed firmly against the door frame, on the opposite side to the Master. He saw nothing.

"What was that you were saying about breakfast?"

"Never a bad time for breakfast! Morning is of course better, but-"

"Oh Doctor. Please stop talking."

His lips instantly pressed together in an indignant expression. He thought his human Master was turning out to be quite pleasant; in brief spurts of course. The real him was showing through the cracks every now and then.

"They'll be plenty of that during our session today."

"Our...session?"

"Yes, Doctor. Have you forgotten everything you came here to do?"

"Oh yes of course!" The Doctor felt like hitting himself. "Our...therapy session."

The Master was still frowning as he backed away from the Doctor's room and headed downstairs. The Doctor hastily pulled on some clothes and followed him.

The Master was sitting at the table reading a paper, two mugs in front of him. He pushed one towards the Doctor without looking up.

"What is it?" The Doctor asked, regarding it suspiciously.

"Just tea?" he posed his answer as a question. "Are you sure you're feeling al right?"

"You made me tea?" He tried not to sound too incredulous.

"Yes...Like I do every morning."

"You make me tea. Every. Morning."

When had he planted that one in the Master's head? Probably his ridiculous subconscious acting up.

"Do you want coffee instead?"

"No no no, tea is...fine. Tea is fine."

The Master looked back down at the paper after making sure the Doctor had taken a first sip. He shook his head slightly.

"Have you seen this?" He asked, folding out the front of the paper so he could see the full article.

"Is it today's?"

"Yes."

"Then it's unlikely that I have Harry."

"Indeed. I don't suppose you would." The Master smirked. "Have a look."

"Which one am I supposed to be reading?"

The Master responded with a silent point towards a square box. It was just the local newsletter, not exactly national news, but the Doctor's hearts skipped two beats when he read the headline.

'Haunted Hospital Opens For Halloween Tours.' He didn't feel like reading much more.

"You said it wouldn't be safe, but look, it is. We should have explored yesterday. Now's our chance."

"Not a good idea."

"You really are no fun Doctor. I thought you were a man of mystery and intrigue, surely this is just the thing for you."

The Doctor took a pair of glasses out his pocket in order to read the full article. It didn't look too exciting. Just some Halloween fodder for the villagers, probably to make someone a bit of money. But, if they'd been fixing up the place to make it safe for people to go inside, and there had been no disappearances, surely it couldn't be what he thought it was.

"Doctor?"

"Hmmm?"

"What happened to your hand?"

The Master was staring intently at the space between palm and wrist on the Doctor's left hand. It had blossomed into quite a bruise.

"I said I had some trouble with the window." He was going to laugh, make a joke about it, but then he saw how the Master was staring at it. What was that expression? Lust? No, couldn't be.

"Does it hurt?"

He didn't sound very sympathetic. The question was curious and clinical.

"Not really, I'm fine."

"It looks like it hurts."

"It doesn't." he replied firmly, moving his wrist further away from the prying gaze.

"It looks almost beautiful Doctor..."

"Don't say things like that."

The Master was lost somewhere, not paying attention.

"...like a nebula. I can see the galaxies in your palm Doctor." He traced a light finger over the purple bruise. It was getting increasingly uncomfortable. "It's like the space and stars are all here. In your hand."

"Stop it."

He had less strength in his voice now. This was scaring him, and he couldn't pin point the exact reason why. He tried to pull his hand away from the Master's light touch, but he wasn't expecting the Master's hand to close suddenly and painfully around his wrist.

"It really is beautiful Doctor, please let me look for longer."

He yanked his arm back as hard as he could, wincing at the pain and taking a stumbling step backwards. He noticed that they were both breathing shallowly.

The Master's eyes seemed to lose their glaze as he looked up into the Doctor's fearful ones. He clutched his wrist protectively as the Master let both of his fall to his side.

Something seemed to snap back inside him. The sane had fought and risen and was now resting at the top.

"Doctor, I-..."

"It's fine."

It wasn't fine. Had the Master been reminded of the stars and the whole of the universe when looking at his bruises, or was it something much darker that he remembered? Perhaps something he himself had inflicted.

"I didn't mean-...It wasn't-...I don't know what came over me Doctor, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." He didn't know why he kept saying that. It wasn't like the Doctor to lie so blatantly when looking someone in the eye. "Just do me a favour."

"What?"

"Forget about that hospital."


When he'd thought of the idea to become the human Master's psychiatrist he'd thought it was a brilliant disguise. The perfect excuse to be close by and still be called the Doctor.

However, he was slowly realising that in order to make this plan realistic he'd have to actually become the Master's psychiatrist. He'd once said that the Master would be a psychiatrist's field day, but not his field day. This was not going to be a walk in the park.

The Master was sitting on the small sofa in the living room, the Doctor in the chair next to it. He'd put on his glasses and steepled his fingers in what he thought was his best Doctor impression, before remembering that he was actually a Doctor.

The Master crossed his legs one way, then the other, and finally settled on crossing both legs beneath him, instantly making his appearance seem smaller and more childlike.

He began to tap at the arm of the sofa, clearly waiting for the Doctor to start the ball rolling. The Doctor couldn't remember one single thing about this that he'd planted in the Master's brain. It would probably be hopeless.

"So...how have you been feeling?"

"Fine."

"I don't like fine, be honest with me Harry."

"Says the man who was all shades of fine this morning." The Master raised an eyebrow and paused in his tapping before continuing. "I've been a bit...how do I explain? Bored?"

"Bored? How so?"

"I've been in this tiny village so long, I feel like I haven't been outside for ages. I can barely remember leaving the front door it just seems like a dream to me."

"You've been outside," The Doctor affirmed for both of them. "Think of yesterday."

"What about before then? That must have been the first time in weeks. I wanted to travel Doctor."

Travel? More like conquer.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere. We could leave this place, travel the world, just you and I Doctor." He was gathering speed with this fantasy, his mind on the cusp of breaking free. "To the corners of the earth and back. To the stars and back!"

"That's impossible."

It wasn't that the Doctor wanted to break the Master's spirit. He just wanted this to be a quiet moment for both of them, for however long they needed to stay like this.

"Only if you believe it's not. They're building rockets to take us to the moon over in America. Right this second."

"Would you really want to travel the stars, Harry?"

"Would you join me Doctor?"

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the request. It was the very one he'd given the Master, who he'd then had to drag kicking and screaming into the TARDIS. The Master had softened after he'd been taken to witness the exploding of several suns, but it didn't do much to placate him.

"I'm just your Doctor, Harry."

"I suppose. I consider you a friend though."

Maybe he should be recording some of this. Just so he could play it back to the Master when he was fully Time Lord again. Just to watch him squirm.

"Right, well. Made any progress with the nightmares?"

"No."

"Oh."

There was a longer than comfortable silence. He'd been hoping that the Master would do most of the talking or at least prompt him what to say.

"I keep hearing that noise."

"The bullets?"

"It's the sound of war, Doctor. The sound of war constantly in my head. I can block it out when I'm awake, but when I'm asleep it's as if I have no control over my mind."

The Doctor thought back to a time when he'd used a clever wiring system linked to the TARDIS's telepathic field. It had let him see into the dreams of The Wakeless and had helped him find a way to make them, well, not so 'wakeless'. He wondered if he could explain away standing over the Master in the middle of the night with a bunch of wires. Probably not.

"What can you see in these dreams?"

"Flames, and smoke, and...you're in them Doctor." He looked up and their eyes met. The Doctor felt his insides burning. He quickly looked down at his fingers.

"I always see you, running from something. You're in danger, Doctor. Always. Terrible terrible danger. I can see it, it's so tangible it could almost be real. I almost could believe you really were in danger Doctor, that something was coming to get you, and it's travelled so far. So far through war and darkness and it's coming closer and-"

The Master let out a painful groan and held his head in his hands. His eyes were squeezed tight shut and he shook a little. Immediately a hand was placed on his shoulder and he managed to open his eyes a little to see the Doctor's worried face looking back.

"They're louder when I think of you, Doctor." He was whispering, barely moving his lips, but staring straight at the Doctor with those red and bloodshot eyes. "They're tearing my head apart."

Was the Master...crying? The Doctor could only stare helplessly back at him. Feeling him shake beneath his awkwardly placed hand.

"They'll leave you alone soon. I promise."

Without even realising how it happened, the Doctor had allowed the Master to lean against him, and then his other hand had moved around him. Protecting him physically in the only way he could from his own mind.

The Master's hands were still clenched over his ears, the tension visible in his white knuckles. They remained like that for a while, the Doctor simply holding the Master, feeling so very detached from the man he thought he knew so well.

"There's something else I always see." The Master's voice sounded ripped apart. "Why?"

"What is it?" He looked down at the man in his arms whose own eyes were fixed on a point in the distance.

"Why, Doctor?"

"Why what?"

"You and the flames. You're always running, but you're always running towards them."