A/N: Thanks for your reviews. Here's the next chapter!

Chapter 7

I am walking to my coronation. The Senators walking behind me say nothing to me, but I don't care. My hearts are thumping with pride and expectation. My name was chosen long ago, by me. The Master. I will be the Master of all. I will become the greatest Time Lord that ever lived and I will change things. We will no longer stand by while the peoples of the universe destroy each other so hatefully. I will show all the dusty old Senators of Gallifrey what it means to truly be a Lord of Time.

My train of thought is interrupted by the echoing sound of feet running down the Hall and the voice of a screaming boy. He is calling my name and my hearts lift. I almost thought he'd be late or miss me completely. I stop and glare at Senators surrounding me, warning them not to say anything. I am only eight years old, but I have already become the most frightening boy on the planet… and today is not the day to upset me; not when I am already teetering on the edge of insanity. Who knows? Maybe the Untempered Schism will drive me insane. But I am confident. Theta assured me that wouldn't happen. He said that if anything at all happened, I would get better from the experience. Just wait and see.

As I look at him now, though, my hearts falter slightly. He is sweating profusely and his eyes are puffy and read. A bruise is splashed across his right cheek and his left shoulder is bleeding. Theta stops just in front of me, reaching out to me just before he falls to his knees, panting heavily. I catch him by his other arm and ease him to floor. When I look closer, there are finger marks on his neck and blood on both of his hands. My blood runs cold as I realized that he's killed someone again. I could see from the marks on his body that it wasn't his fault, though.

"Theta…" I whisper, placing my hand on his left cheek. "What happened to you, my friend?"

"Someone tried to stop me…" he said, almost as if he couldn't believe it. His eyes were wide and panicked, darting from side to side. When they settled on me, he seemed to realize his purpose for coming here. I was a little heartsbroken to think that maybe he hadn't really come here for me. "Koschei…" he said urgently, fisting my white shirt in his hands. "Koschei, you have to get out of here. Please… don't go. Something is about to happen to you." I scoffed. One of the Senators shifted uncomfortably behind me and at the time, I'd thought nothing of it. What a fool I'd been.

"Theta… I thought you wanted this…" I whispered in disbelief. "What changed?"

"They changed," he glared up at the Senators. "They're going to—"

"THETA!" cried an adult voice. I looked up to see the General rounding the corner and heading swiftly in our direction. Theta ignored him.

"Just come away with me!" he begged, crying. I was shocked. Theta never cried. It was against the rules for him. He was supposed to be my savior. I humored him, thinking something must really be wrong. "Please! Remember that old TARDIS I told you I found? I fixed it! We can go anywhere! Anywhere but here! Koschei…" The General approached us then, grabbing Theta's uninjured shoulder and pulling him away from me.

"Theta, stop this," the General scolded. "There's nothing you can—"

"NO!" Theta screamed, pushing the General away with an incredible strength that I'd never seen. The General stumbled and fell several feet away from us. The Senators moved to intervene, but I shook my head. They stilled. He moved back towards me and grabbed my shirt. He was terrifying me. "Koschei, listen to me! I can help you. You don't need to do this! Please!" I closed my eyes and sighed, grabbing his small fists in mine. I didn't know what was wrong, but I did what I thought was right the time. I thought maybe the Senators would be proud of me for rejecting Theta's offer. I would explain it to him later, I thought. I would make him see how much better I'd become because of the Schism. His eyes were desperate and rage-filled. When had Theta become such a monster? Had I create him? I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I steeled myself for my next words.

"Theta… please," I whispered. "Go home."

The hurt and betrayal was clear in his eyes and he sagged, letting me go. He sobbed a little. I brought him into a hug and whispered to him. He nodded and I gave him a kiss on his forehead and let him go. The General had recovered by this point and was standing by warily. I nodded to him and wrapped his fingers carefully around Theta's left arm. Theta didn't react to him, he just hung his head. It hurt to see him this way, but I told myself that this was needed. The last thing I remember hearing Theta say at that time was so strange and it would haunt me for the rest of my life.

"I love you, Koschei…" he said, and turned away from me. "And I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."

I watched in shock as the General ushered him away, saying something about the hospital and the boys he'd killed defending himself. As I turned and walked ahead of the Senators to what I know considered as certain death, I closed my eyes. It was a mistake because when next I opened them, my mind was assaulted with all of Time and Space… and the accursed Drums of War.

I awaken to the sound of someone shouting and I realize that it's me. My hands fly up to cover my mouth and the yelling stops. All I can do is swallow. I have to control myself. I won't cry… not right now. Crying too much is bad… isn't it? I realize I'm lying on the floor of Jack's room, a small bundle of clothing sitting on my chest.

I try to remember my dream, but the more I try to catch it, the faster it slips away. The sound of the drums faded to the back of my mind. They aren't the real drums, I know that. They are just an echo of What Once Was. The only thing that remained was Theta's last words to me. He was apologizing, but for what? He couldn't really have known what would happen… had he felt responsible for me even then? I could hardly remember my childhood before the Drums. For me, it consisted of watching the Doctor defend my honor, hunching over little inventions, and running in fields of deep red grass. Back then, we'd both run from our issues… or so I'd thought. A memory of Theta talking to my parents came forward at that moment. Theta was saying something about his mother dying. It wasn't until later that I'd found out my parents had been giving him money, but it hadn't been enough. Theta's mother died three days before his coronation and ever since then he'd talked of leaving 'this godforsaken planet'. He talked so hatefully of the place that we'd wanted to change. I was so… crazy at the time that it hadn't made much sense to me. Now, thinking back, I understood. Thinking back, I wish I'd just gone with him.

"Harry!" Martha cries, shaking me. This shaking business was getting old quick. "Harry, are alright? I heard you scream…" I wave her off and sit up, opening my eyes. When had I shut them?

"M'fine, Martha Jones…" I say, rubbing my head. When I pull my hand away, it's covered in blood. The image of Theta approaching me with his hands all bloody. "Shit…"

"Watch it," Martha snapped. "You'll heal fast enough, even with the wrap there. Now get up and get in the shower like I said five minutes ago. We can't help you if you—"

"—am not willing to help myself, I know," I growl, standing up. I was sick of hearing this speech. Jack had told me before leaving to listen to whatever Martha said and that she couldn't help me if I didn't want help. I hadn't wanted him to leave me alone with her. It wasn't because I didn't believe that she truly did forgive me, because I did. I didn't believe, however, that she would actually want to help me. I thought she'd be colder and here she was scolding me about passing out on the floor. I shook my head and laughed, walking away. Martha followed me all the way to the shower bank, standing very closely. She couldn't possibly understand the comfort she was providing me and how much it meant to me. No one but the Doctor had ever cared for me, and he'd stopped a long time ago. I fought the urge to hold her hand. Koschei had been the one reliant on personal contact. Not me. Not Harry Saxon.

When we got to the shower room, I considered asking her to stay close. Another mind present, no matter how weak, was always a comfort. I stopped… and then I kept walking, hugging my clothes close to me. She stopped me by placing hand on my arm. I winced, thinking she'd hurt me somehow. She smiled softly.

"I'll hold those until you get out," she said. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

I nodded and handed her the black T-shirt, leather jacket, and light blue jeans. I'd picked them out of a drawer labeled 'Owen Harper'. I didn't know who it was, but Jack had introduced me to the whole team. I figured Owen wouldn't need them anymore. I stepped into the shower stall and turned the knob as far to the left as possible. The water needed to be scalding if I was to properly disinfect myself. I stripped, the clothes tearing and falling away like soft paper and stepped into the water. A hiss of pain escaped my lips before I could stop it. The water was definitely hot—a little too hot. I turned it down to a soft steaming heat and unwrapped my head. This would be the most painful part. Closing my eyes, I ducked my head under the stream and sighed.

"Are you okay?" Martha called. I turned under the water and watched as the blood that coated my body washed down the drain.

"Y-yeah…" I said. I'm fine. Steam rises in the shower, momentarily clouding my vision. I gasp suddenly as the water hits my back and take deep breaths to fight the pain. If there was anything I deserved, it was at least this much.

"You're him then?" Martha says, distracting me from the pain. I use this to my advantage. "You're the Doctor's friend." I laugh mirthlessly.

"You could say that," I admitted. "But I hardly think he considers us friends now, eh?" I grab the soap and begin scrubbing myself, starting with the hair. "He'll never really forgive me, you know. He's old, and just like me, mercy is very nearly nonexistent."

"I don't understand that…" Martha states. "How could he just abandon you like that? Anyone who's willing to look can see that you've changed…"

"He isn't willing to look, Martha Jones," I reply, standing under the water again to rinse the soap and blood off. "He's the Doctor… and for all the things he's seen his nine hundred years, he's never been able to see what truly matters. Not since his mother died anyway." Martha gasps.

"Do you think the Doctor's lost hope, Master?" I wince at her use of my title. I don't like hearing her use my name.

"I don't know…" I say, turning off the water and wrapping a nearby towel around my waist. "But please, Martha Jones… Don't call me 'Master'. I am no one's Master—especially not yours." I step out of the shower stall and Martha is standing off to the side. I smile at her and she looks surprised. She studies my face. "Really, Martha Jones… you… just call me Harry." She nods.

"Alright, then," she grins. "Only if you promise to stop calling me by my whole name. It's Martha—just Martha."

"Alright… Martha."

About ten minutes later, we're sitting in computer chairs, registering my name into the Torchwood team. Jack had told us that it would be alright and I was entering false information about my age and even changed my name from Harold Saxon to Harry Smith. Martha came along holding two cups of coffee. I accepted mine with a nod. I took a sip and grinned at her.

"Not as good as Ianto's," she shrugged. "But—"

"I think it's brilliant," I interrupted, locking eyes with her. "Thank you, Martha."

She looked confused, but nodded anyway. If there was one thing I hated more than anything in the universe, it was listening to self-degradation. I did it myself, but I deserved to be a hypocrite on this one. Theta had talked down to himself too much when we were kids, and I had reason to suspect that he still did sometimes. Martha looked at my new name and laughed. I tilted my head and watched her. Her presence was ridiculously comforting, but not inexplicably so. She had the sort of essence that immediately instilled trust and admiration in my hearts. She had recently gone through psychic training (enough to be able to see past psychic paper) and her mind was open, but closed at the same time. It must mean that she was hiding something important. I didn't really care—it wasn't my business to know. I couldn't help the niggling feeling in the back of my mind that told me I might have had something to do with it. However, I could see why the Doctor liked her so much. She was simply pleasant.

"I don't think 'Smith' is a good last name," she giggled. "People might think you're married."

"Hmm?" I mumbled, my train of thought being officially derailed. "Why would people think that?"

"Think about it," she implored. "When you're traveling with the Doctor and he introduces himself as John Smith…" she left the rest of her thought hanging. I realized what she meant and laughed.

"Alright, what do you propose I do, then?"

"Harry… Potter?" she said, quirking a brow. I shook my head and we laughed for several minutes. It felt good to really laugh.

We argued over last names for several minutes before settling on Harry Kingston from Cardiff, Wales. I liked it because it sounded original; she liked because it sounded close enough to my title. I shrugged and stood, stretching. She watched me, biting her lip and looking worried. I crossed my arms and tilted my head at her.

"What happened to you, Harry Kingston?" she asked. I should have known that she would ask me eventually. I sighed and sat back down in my seat. "You seem just like a regular man."

"I guess…" I began, looking away. "At some point in my life, I gave up fighting for a cause when I realized that nobody else cared. When The—er… the Doctor left after I became a Time Lord, I was heartsbroken." I turned to the computer screen and checked over the information before hitting "enter". A photo ID was being printed somewhere nearby and I didn't feel like getting up to find it.

"I think you'll be alright, Harry," she said, leaning forward to pat my knee. I grabbed her wrist.

"Why do you think that?" I asked, leaning close to her and studying her face. "What's stopping you from killing me right now? We're all alone here and I'm weak and broken."

"Because you're not…" she hesitated and wouldn't meet my eyes. "I don't think you're that much of a threat anymo—"

"Not a threat?" I interrupted, raising a brow. I pulled her closer to me, taking advantage of the wheels on her chair. "You don't think I'm a threat. That's funny." I didn't want to do this. I didn't want her to be afraid of me, but I wanted her to realize just how much of a threat both the Doctor and I were to her. If she believed that we weren't dangerous, then she was fooling herself. I didn't want her to remain stupid. She struggled a little and I tightened my grip on her wrists. I willed the necklace to change my appearance back to Harold Saxon. She gasped and tried to pull away. "Look at me, Martha. I destroyed your life. The Doctor destroyed your life. We're Time Lords… That's what we do. We can break into your feeble little minds and destroy you from within—drive you mad. We can change your past and manipulate your future. We can be in your life for but a moment and change everything—ruin everything."

"…but you don't," she whispered. I chuckled darkly.

"Oh, but we do," I growl. "The Doctor does it better than anyone I know. When Gallifrey was returning, I saw into his mind. He'd destroyed entire species and manipulated people into taking their own lives. He never speaks about it because he wants the humans to think he's some sort of hero. He isn't. He does what he does so well because you let him get away with it."

"You… you're hurting me," she says, looking at me.

"Don't you see, Martha?" I ask, ignoring her. "The Doctor doesn't like me because… I am the embodiment of everything he hates about himself. Despite the absence of the Drums, I'm not afraid to cause others distress to prove a point. Neither is he. Don't make people into heroes, Martha, they don't exist. And even if they did, the Doctor definitely wouldn't be one of them. I am a monster, little girl. You should stay away before you get yourself hurt."

Martha's reaction wasn't expected: She took a breath, and wrenched her wrists from my hands, only to place hers on my face. She kept my head still and forced me to look at her.

"Listen to me, Harry," she said. I was compelled to listen. "You aren't going to scare me away. I can see that you are broken and weak. Do you really think the Doctor isn't? He always looks so sad when he thinks no one's looking, but I can see it. The thing that's different about you is that you don't run away like he does. You're facing your demons when, from what you've told me, all he does is run. He leaves us behind because he's afraid of watching us die or become terrible people. The Doctor creates us and leaves us behind when we fail to be what he wants."

"So… what, then?" I ask, realizing she hadn't bought my 'I'm a monster' speech at all. (I tried not to smile.) "What should I do, Martha? I want to be… like him. He's not drowning in his memories and letting them destroy him."

"You're right," she said. "But I won't let it destroy you. I won't let you run or push me and Jack away like you're trying to do. You don't need be like the Doctor. You just need to forgive yourself."

"How can you not hate me?"

"If there's one thing the Doctor taught me, it's that killing isn't always the answer," she stated, answering my original question first. "I believe when you died the first time, he lost sight of that. I don't hate you because it would be pointless. It wouldn't make me feel any better. I'm going to help you like the Doctor promised and you will not run. If you're both running, you'll never get back to each other."

Needless to say, I was shocked by this revelation. I could see why the Doctor hung around these little humans. They could bring out the best in people, no matter how deeply buried it was. It made my hearts ache, but it was a happy ache. I was glad that I'd gotten to talk to Martha alone.

A/N: Sorry this chapter is so long, but a lot needed to be said and I couldn't find anywhere to stop it. The confrontation needed to happen sooner or later and I'd rather it happened now. Did anyone catch the little allusion Martha made toward the Doctor 'creating' the things he abandons? Well, I just told you. Hopefully, the Master figures things out in time. Things are about to get heavy when the Doctor returns to retrieve his only friend. What will happen when Jack finds out the truth? Or better yet, is Martha Jones falling in love with her patient? Are those feelings at all returned? Maybe, maybe not. What will the Master have to say to the Doctor, if anything? All this and more in upcoming chapters. It looks like there are only a few chapters left, people. Let me know what you think.

-The Lonely King