Hehe, sorry it took a bit longer. I was Loki'd for several days and school had me in its hands and and and. Here you go with another chapter. Did I tell you that I love you for reading this story? No? Well, I do. So now, here is the chapter, shhhh...
Chapter 6
"Finally!" Sherlock snarled, impatience written all over his face as he greeted them with his head held high. Great,yeah, maybe they should have said no...Dean was sure he wouldn't be able to endure this dick for more than ten minutes. "Would you please hurry up? I don't want to waste my time on waiting, I have better things to do."
Okay, less than one minute.
"Sherlock, calm down." John rolled his eyes, giving Sherlock a serious look afterwards. "They agreed to help...I think you should thank them for being here."
Sherlock huffed and waved John off with one gloved hand. "I don't need to thank anyone, John. They nearly begged to assist me, I am doing them a favour."
Dean was close to hitting Holmes in the face. Several times.
"Huh, man, calm down." Sam whispered as he leaned towards Dean, who glared at Sherlock as if he was about to strangle him - which was almost the case.
Castiel blinked absently, his gaze directed somewhere to his left; he had been very quiet during the whole car ride and Dean wondered, once more, what was going on inside his head. Castiel wouldn't tell him, and Dean wasn't even sure if he wanted to know..
"Hello." The Doctor appeared next to Sherlock and John, his brown eyes bright and friendly. He held a cup of what Dean presumed to be tea or coffee in his hands.
Where did he get this? ...
"Where did you get that?" John asked surprised.
"Oh, the friendly lady gave it to me after I've asked politely for it." The Doctor answered as he took a sip, his hand pointing towards the glass door.
Dean could see a woman with wavy dark brown hair and tan skin who was wearing a blue cardigan and dark trousers; she stood behind the glass door which was leading to an office and she didn't look friendly to Dean - more seriously pissed.
"Donovan?" Sherlock aske, contempt and surprise mixed in his voice. "Really? I suggest you better check if there is poison in that tea."
Dean raised a hand and waved but the woman didn't wave back, instead she turned her back to them and walked further into the office.
"Well, only friendly people working here..."Dean muttered to himself. Castiel tilted his head to the side, his eyes on Dean. There was an almost questioning expression on his face, something that looked close to a child. "I don't understand your idea of being friendly.."
Dean had the urge to facepalm but he simply took a deep breath and smiled, maybe a bit too forced because Castiel's head tilted even further; he looked like a fucking owl or a cat or something not quite human. Well, he was no human anway..
You could say it was adorable in its own way, not adorable like ...adorable...but...Whatever.
"Hey, so..."Sam cleared his throat. "What about the suspect?"
Sherlock nodded thoughtfully. "We haven't seen him yet, we were waiting for you."
"Well, now that we're here..."Sam gestured with his hands, using his whole body to speak. He always did that, speaking with his whole body, and sometimes it looked kinda awkward but Dean was used to it. "Let's take a look, shall we?"
...
They had one of those typical rooms, one of those with a window to look into the room while the arrested person couldn't see a damn thing of you. To Dean the guy on the other side of the glass looked like one of those normal petty criminal, those that steal your wallet while trying to intimidate you with a rusty pocket knife, or those that linger in the shadows of the streets to watch you with dark gleaming eyes.
He had platinum blond hair which was almost white and messy, looking as if it was anything but his real hair color. His eyes were hazel and cat-like, reminding Dean of Sherlock's eyes; both had the same cold arrogance in them, though the eyes of the man in the room were darker and also more dangerous. He wore a black hoodie and a magenta colored shirt underneath it, and every other man would might have looked ridiculous in it but he looked even more...crazy? Yeah,there was definitely something dark and crazy about this guy, hovering over him like a shadow. His trousers were black as well and the white sneakers he wore were rather used. Like those of the Doctor, Dean thought as he glanced over to the lanky man in the brown suit next to John.
It was the Doctor who gasped in surprise, more feelings written over his face than a person should be able to feel at one time; hurt, regret, pain, anger, frustration, relief, joy, respect, affection...
"Master!" The Doctor said, and his voice was full of pain and relief and so fucking much care and affection...
"Master?" Dean and the others asked at the same time, all of them rather surprised. "That sounds like some BDSM thing..." Dean mumbled and Sam had to hide his grin behind the back of his hand while he struggled to force a serious expression on his face. Sherlock simply overheard that comment while Castiel raised one eyebrow. Dean could almost hear him saying 'I don't get that reference'.
"You know this man?" Sherlock asked, his eyes and voice sharp, both lacking sympathy. The Doctor nodded mutely as he gazed at the man behind the glass wall, who seemed rather bored as he rock his chair backwards and forwards.
"Is he your friend?" John asked, his voice softer than Sherlocks and full of all the sympathy that Sherlock didn't care to bring up. "Boyfriends." Dean mumbled because he couldn't hold it back. Seriously, the Doctor looked as if he was about to jump at the guy with the intention to hug him to death. And, really, those names? That was rather kinky...
Sam gave him a serious glance as if to say 'Stop it man, this is really important.' Of course he was right. Dean had just tried to lighten the mood. A bit. Somehow. No, not really..
Dean was sure he had barely seen someone caring this much about someone else. It wasn't even only caring, it was as if his whole gaze spoke of love. Though, there was something dark there too, as if a lot had happened between them; the expression of the Doctor was torn between utter love and utter frustration and his posture was stiff, his arms folded in front of his chest as if he didn't know what to do with them and he pressed his thin lips into an even thinner line before he answered with a grave voice; "He is my friend and brother...and maybe something more..It is a bit..."He sighed and briefly closed his eyes. "It's a bit complicated...We have a long story behind us. I thought him dead..."His voice was bitter as he opened his eyes again to look at the man, the Master.
Well, suddenly Dean could understand the Doctor better than he thought he would or could. It reminded Dean of himself and he looked at Castiel, who returned his gaze with his bright blue eyes. Neither of them said a word but they really didn't need to, because Castiel's eyes told him everything.
"Just be careful..."Lestrade had mumbled before he left them alone in front of the glass window. He seemed a bit tired and grumpy. "He tried to break Anderson's nose."
Dean could hear Sherlock's gleeful chuckle. Another person that he didn't like. Hell, did that guy like anyone exept for Watson?
They all stood there in awkward silence after Lestrade left, neither of them really sure what to say. Even Sherlock was quiet, something that made him less a dick in. But he was still an asshole.
"He is someone of yours." Castiel said as he took two steps closer to the window. All heads turned to the angel. "But he's.." Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he searched for the right word. "...damaged." He turned to the Doctor who was still looking at the Master.
Maybe he is afraid to look away, Dean thought as he eyed the Doctor. Maybe he thinks he'll disappear if he looks away. Dean knew that feeling too, the feeling when you're afraid that everything is not real, that the person will disappear into thin air front of your eyes, that it was just another hopless dream of despair...This feeling really sucks.
"What do you mean, 'damaged'?" John asked, maybe just to keep someone talking, but he sounded worried. Maybe not worried for the guy, more worried for the Doctor.
Castiel blinked several times until he turned his head back to the Master, who was still rocking his chair backwards and forwards, his eyes half-lidded and his expression totally bored. Dean wondered if he knew that he was watched. "It is difficult to explain for you can not see what I see." Castiel simply said. As if that would explain anything... "It is his soul. One of the gearwheels is broken, it does not work properly."
Dean didn't understand a thing. He was sure neither did the others, but the Doctor now chose to look at Castiel, his brown eyes serious as he said; "I know that already. There was an incident...It is a long story, too long to tell it now...But I can tell you that it drove him mad." He turned his head back to the Master, his brow furrowed as he asked; "Could you fix it?" And there was hope in his voice, his eyes earnest and pleading. The Master really meant everything to him...
Castiel pressed his lips together with a frown on his face as he answered slowly. "I don't know." He looked up to meet the Doctor's eyes. "But I could try..."
The Doctor exhaled and some tension left his body. "Good...That's good, that's brilliant." And there was the spark in his eyes again. "We should talk to him!" And he was off , his long legs carrying him to the door as he pulled something out of his coat that looked like a screwdriver with a torch.
"What the hell..." Sam raised an eyebrow and Sherlock was about to say something, probably that they could use a key, but the door was already open and the Doctor inside the room.
"Oh great." John mumbled and looked around as if he feared that someone would round the corner.
"Someone should follow him." Dean muttered as he watch the Doctor and the Master through the thick glass. Sherlock straightened his back, his eyes narrowing as he observed the scene. "No need to." He said with his deep voice. "He knows what he is doing."
Dean, to be honest, wasn't sure about that but he kept quiet as he watched the two men in the room.
The Master, who had been bored until the Doctor showed up, had wide eyes now. He seemed to be unsure if he should be happy or not, and for one moment Dean thought there would be a happy reunion with hugs and kisses, but then the face of the Master changed and his expression grew dark and twisted. "Doctor." He sneered. "You here? Have you found me now, again? What a surprise. I feel flattered."
There was derision and bitter contempt in his voice, his eyes cold and absolutely different from the Doctor's. There was affection, he was hiding it well, but you could see it. His eyes might be hard and cold, but they were slightly glassy, as if he was holding back tears.
"Master..."The Doctor said, his voice serious. "You are alive...I thought you've died...I've grieved, you know? Days over days, because I've thought they've taken you down with them. The last thing I've seen was the white light that swallowed you."
The Master had a wry smile on his lips, his eyes full of arrogance but also hurt. He was hurt, moved by whatever had happened between them. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to write a card. Well, maybe because I was in hell and had to get back somehow, yeah,maybe because that was more important." He tipped his head from side to side while he spoke, his expression full of anger as if he had expected the Doctor to help him. "I was kind of busy, you know? It's not as if everyone is a hero and saves the day like you always do."
Back from hell? Dean and Sam exchanged a quick glance.
Hell? Dean mouthed. Hell as in hell, the hell?
I don't know, Sam mouthed back. They turned their heads back to the two men.
The Doctor looked hurt now, his eyes sad as he walked closer to the Master, who watched him with wary eyes. "I am so,so sorry." The Doctor said and his voice was full of regret. "I should have looked for you, but .."
"But you were busy with yourself,I know." The Master snorted and looked away to his left, directly through the window as if he could actually see the other men standing there. "Always the same, right? It's all about you,isn't it?" And he sounded like a petulant child.
"No." The Doctor said soothingly, and his voice was smooth and calm. He smiled a small sad smile. "No, that's not true."
The Doctor crouched down in front of the Master, who hissed and almost kicked the Doctor in the chest. "Leave me alone, I don't want to see your stupid puppy dog eyes ever again! I don't need your compassion or help!"
The Doctor sighed deeply. "I thought you were dead." And he whispered something, a name maybe, and the Master's eyes narrowed. "I thought I would never see you again."
"There would have been a regeneration anyway!" The Master snorted and rolled his eyes. "Put your damn sentiment somewhere else but my face. You won't get rid of me any time soon."
Sherlock hummed, his hands behind his back as he looked at John, who was busy watching the scene in front of him. "This is getting nowhere."
Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance and turned to Sherlock. "Hey Holmes, didn't you just say he knows what he does?"
Sherlock wrinkelt his nose as he turned his head back to the Doctor and the Master, which were still talking. "I must have mistaken his intentions. I thought he would ask him about the case."
John shook his head in disbelieve and furrowed his brow in disagreement. "Sherlock...He thought his friend was dead! You can't expect him to ask about the case! They probably have to settle a few things..."
Oh well, Dean was sure they had to. Once again the hunter's eyes wandered to Castiel; the angel was very quite again, his bright blue eyes fixed on the master. He didn't look as if he was hurting or in any pain, but he was pale and his intelligent blue eyes were slightly clouded.
Sherlock walked into the room and John sighed deeply; he seemed tired and worried. "You're okay man?" Sam asked the smaller man.
The army doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, yes I am fine. I am just worried that Sherlock ...does something stupid." He smiled slightly as they turned their attention back to the room and the men inside.
"I am Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said as he stood next to the Doctor, his hands in the pockets of his dark coat. "I don't have much time or patience, so I won't bother with long stories. I want to know if you are related to Moriarty."
Whatever the Doctor had wanted to say, he closed his mouth as Sherlock began to speak. He looked kinda hurt but he didn't raise his voice again.
The Master laughed out, his eyes full of glee as he smirked. "Why would I tell you?"
"Because I want to know it." Sherlock answered cooly.
The Master's smirk widened as he leaned back. "I don't cooperate with others just because they want it. It has to be usefull to me too, you know."
The Doctor sighed and mumbled something like "Please just tell him what you know."
Sherlock raised his head as he looked down at the blonde man. "You have your friend back, you will be free to work with us, what more could you want."
The Master huffed and crossed his arms, his eyes darting to the Doctor. "First-" He said,pointing with his index-finger at the Doctor."He was a friend of mine, not is. Second-" He pointed at Sherlock. "Why would I want to work with you humans. I hate you, by the way. There is no reason for me to work for or with you. Nothing."
Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. "Sooner or later you will have to talk because otherwise you won't get out of here."
The Master narrowed his eyes until they were small slits. Dean had the feeling he couldn't stand Sherlock and that made him likeable in his own way. Even if he maybe was a mass murderer.
"That's what he said." He spat and his voice was sharp and angry.
Dean could almost see Sherlock's ears twitch like those of a cat. "Who, who said that? Moriarty?"
The Master raised his head now to look Sherlock in the eyes; his face was stern and his small narrowed eyes dark and dangerous.
"No." He said with a low voice. "The one that brought me back from hell."
Dean and Sam exchanged another quick glance. So he had been brought back from hell...But why? Who would bring him back? The Doctor had nothing to do with it, Dean knew real surprise and the Doctor had been more than surprised to see the Master alive.
"Who was it, then?" Sherlock asked again, his own eyes narrowing as well.
Dean could feel the tension in the air like electricity on his skin.
The Master leaned forward, his voice serious. "Crowley."
Oh well, Crowley had his finger everywhere, this damn bastard...
Sam ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the Master. "Oh man, I think this might could be a bigger case..." He mumbled and turned his head towards Dean, but Dean barely heard him because he already walked into the room.
"So, Crowley, yes?" The hunter asked as he stopped next to Sherlock who gave Dean a questioning glance. "The 'king-of-fucking-hell-crossroads-demon-guy' Crowley?"
The Master snorted as he leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling; the bright light must be hurting his eyes but the Master just stared at the lights as if he couldn't care less. "I don't know if you know another one, but yes, it was him. I assume you know him? Great, did he pull you out of hell as well?"
Dean gave the Master, who looked at him now, a wry smile. "Yeah,well...I was in hell once and believe me I never wanna be there again, but it wasn't him who saved me."Dean's gaze flickered to where he knew the window was. Castiel must be watching him. Castiel was always watching him, so this was nothing new...right..
Dean turned his attention back to the Master, who seemed more interested now. "You've been there too?" He asked, wary still, but he seemed to loosen up a bit. "How long?"
Dean grimaced and rubbed the back of his head. He hated talking about himself, especially about his time in hell and especially with a stranger that he barely knew. "Long enough."
The Master chuckled dryly as he looked at Dean, his head in a normal position again. "Then join the club! I would hug you, or maybe not, but my hands are cuffed, sorry."
The Doctor had his brow furrowed in worry as he took several steps towards the Master. Sherlock, on the other hand, stood at the wall now, his sharp gaze observing the scene.
"You've been in hell?" The Doctor asked, his voice small and worried. "I am so sorry...I didn't know..How did it happen?"
The Master snorted and turned his head away from the Doctor as if he couldn't bear his pathetic approach. "Ask the others!" He spat, his shoulders tense and his face a grimace of pure hatred. "Gallifrey wasn't good enough for me anymore, or so they've thought. Not that I would have wanted to stay there, locked in time forever with those idiots, but it wasn't nice and surely not the only option to get rid of me now that I've fulfilled my purpose. But, hey-" He turned his head to the Doctor, his hazel eyes so full of anger and hurt and loathing that the Doctor took one or two steps backwards again, though he did held the Master's gaze.
"At least I am still alive. I thought it's over now, the drumming inside my head is finally gone and all that shit os over, but no, it isn't, it isn't! I am back again, still the same old ME in the same damn regeneration, brought back by a demon." He gave the Doctor a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"All because you have been busy." He nearly screamed that last sentence.
He didn't mean what he said; his eyes were too glassy with unshed tears of either anger or pain, his smile was too cold, his shoulders too tense. He was angry, hell he was, and he was hurt, but he didn't mean what he said. Dean knew that position, he had been hurt by Sam's behavior or Cas's idea of help often enough. It was easy to reject others, forgiving them was a lot harder...
Nonetheless the Doctor seemed hurt by the words; his bright eyes were hard and his thin lips tight and pressed together. He seemed to search for the right words but came up with nothing. All he said was a small "I am really so so sorry, Master..."
Dean took pitty with them and tried to lead the conversation back to the topic.
"Okay so...You've been brought back, right?" The Master turned towards Dean, his expression wary again. "Did he say why?"
The Master furrowed his brow thoughtfully, though somehow Dean had the feeling he knew very well why he had been brought back.
"Yes." The Master finally said, nodding slowly. "Yes, it was because of this guy called Moreearteeeaa..or something like that. Stupid name, don't like it. Crowley said he had to bring me back because he was in his debt and had to pay it back...I don't know what he meant but I honestly don't care."
That was weird.
Crowley being in Moriarty's debt? Why?
And what did Moriarty want from a Time Lord, from the Master?
And what WAS Moriarty?
Too many damn question, Dean thought grimly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Did you meet Moriarty?" Sherlock asked from his place at the wall, his voice sharp and demanding. "Did he want something from you?"
The Master laughed out, his dark eyes gleaming dangerously, and Dean had the feeling that this guy could be really really dangerous if he wanted to...
"Oh,yes, he had a rather special wish. Though, I didn't meet him yet. Crowley told me what he wants."
Sherlock leaned away from the white wall and walked towards the Master, who looked up to Sherlock as if he wasn't impressed by his presence at all. Well, Sherlock in return looked as if he was unimpressed as well. They seemed to make a silent contest about who could look more bored than the other...
"What did he want?" Sherlock asked, growled, his bright eyes almost without a color. "Tell me, what did he want?" He urged, he was in need to know the answer, this was important to him and Dean could just guess why.
Probably because this was THE fucking Moriarty, who still seemed to be Homles' number one antagonist. Sherlock needed every imformation he could get; he needed to be one step ahead of Moriarty to be able to beat him.
This was a game...Dean shuddered. It's never a good sign if human actions turn into games because then it's inevitable that someone gets hurt.
The Master took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes as if to remember what exactly it was that Moriarty wanted.
"Hmmm...He said it was something inside a really big box..."The Master pursed his lips, his brow still furrowed. "Hmmm. I think he said something ...something inside of a...Pandorica?...Yeah, I think that was its name."
