It took about a half hour of coaxing to get the Master to eat. The Doctor didn't want him to go hungry, for all he knew, the Master's hunger could have been what caused him to go haywire last night and bawl. The idea of the Master crying still did not sound quite right in his head.

The empty platter of pancakes rested on the floor. The Master sat cross legged - straight backed on the low bed, the Doctor leaned against the wall from the floor. The Master had finally agreed to let the Doctor feed him if he kneeled on the floor before him. The Doctor wasn't quite sure if he should have let that happen, but if it filled the Master's stomach with something substantive, he would pay the mild embarrassment that came from playing nursemaid.

"Do you really want those handcuffs off?" The Doctor asked. He had another idea that might work better.

"What do you think, you idiot?" The Master snapped.

The Doctor smiled in a melancholic sort of way. "You're not going to get them off with an attitude like that." He sat up and walked around to the other side of the bed that wasn't fully occupied by the Master. The Master saw him looking to sit down and immediately sprawled out on the bed, eyes looking challengingly up. He was going to have to be difficult, wasn't he?

Instead of being totally annoyed, the Doctor thought he'd roll with it and maybe have a bit of fun anyway. Gently, he ran a hand through the Master's soft brown hair. The Master jerked away and gave the Doctor a long glare. "Well, when you roll out over the bed like a dog, I presume you want me to pet you."

Another glare. "I am not a bloody dog." The Doctor reached for his tummy, to which the Master recoiled into a partial ball. "Get away from me, you git."

The Doctor couldn't help but feel entertained, despite the insults he was receiving. "You're a puppy then?" He climbed onto the bed and ran a hand down the Master's back as if it were fuzzy.

"Shut up." The Master wouldn't admit it in a million lightyears, but he enjoyed the sensation as he got a chill down his spin from the gentle touch.

"You look a bit like a puppy." The Doctor was grinning fully now, hand moving up to behind the Master's ear. He attempted to bite the Doctor's hand, despite internally wanted to not resist (and hating every second of it). The Doctor chuckled a bit. The Doctor, at that moment, resolved not to let the Master's anger or antics sour him. However he did realize, in the Master's current state, this was probably very degrading. So instead of continuing it, he just scooped up the Master from behind and brought him in, wrapping his arms around him.

"Let go of me." The Master said harshly, but he didn't struggle. The Doctor held him loosely enough that he could have gotten away if he wanted to. He leaned back against the wall, and to his incredible surprise, the Master leaned back with him. The Doctor decided not to go any further, despite his terrible urge to pet the Master or tighten his embrace. The Master didn't speak, so the Doctor figured it was his turn.

"Do you want me to take off these handcuffs?" He asked genuinely, allowing seriousness to enter the conversation.

The Master didn't respond for a long moment. "Then what's the gambit?"

"Huh?"

"You want me to believe that you're just going to take them off all together, without a catch?" The Master laughed. "I know you well enough to know you can be one hell of a liar, Doctor."

The Doctor bit his cheek. "I wasn't trying to lie – I'm not just going to take them off altogether. I…had a couple other things in mind as alternative."

"And what were they?" The Master spat boredly.

"Well, I don't know how much you're going to like any of them. I don't."

"You didn't answer my question, Doctor."

The Doctor sighed. He really hated all of the choices that would serve as the Master's new restraints. "There's a pulse chip, I'd probably install it to the back of your neck. It'd send electronic shocks to different parts of your body, depending on the setting and what you're doing."

"I don't suppose I'd have the control panel." The Master rolled his eyes.

"Unfortunately, no. I've also got a muscle-deactivator strap that would also go on your neck. It's the most painless." And humane. However the Doctor wasn't sure if it was this one that he hated the most. There was something profoundly disturbing about having your muscles simply shut down and collapsing to the ground in a cross-legged position against your will. "It's kind of like an anesthetic."

"What else do you have in your magic bag of detainment?" The Master grumbled passively.

"Not much else – most of it involves shocking…I'd rather not use anything particularly painful on you…"

"Is it because you think I'm weak?" He accused.

"No, Master." He paused and looked at the man sitting in his lap. "It's because I don't want to hurt you." The Doctor put gently.

"Well I want to hurt you."

"Unfortunately. If you didn't, then you wouldn't have to have this restraint, would you?"

"Doctor, I don't doubt your odd fetishes enough to believe this is purely out of safety." The Master grinned darkly.

"That's…very creepy, Master."

"So which one of your devices are you going to force on me?" He asked, looking over his shoulder despondently.

"I was going to let you choose. I hate all of them equally." The Doctor replied sadly. The cell was silent besides breath. There was a great comfort in the Master allowing the Doctor to hold him. Every moment of it. But that didn't help the Doctor from feeling immense guilt. "I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"Sorry?" The Master spat. "If you were sorry you wouldn't lock me up in a godforsaken cage!"

"I'm trying to protect you…" The Doctor said, feeling hurt.

"Well if you're trying to protect me like I'm your little doggy than the owner should choose the setting for the collar round my neck!" The Master sat up and awkwardly turned around to face him. "Go on. Put the collar on, yeh? Right here?" The Master lifted up his chin. When the Doctor only looked at him with sad eyes did he lower his head.

The Doctor felt guilty, now, with the Master's many jabs and regretting how he'd played around with him as if he had been a dog. For the Master, being in such a vulnerable position now, that must have struck him.

"Master," he tried again, quietly. "I'd really rather you pick the device."

The Master stared at him with tired, angry eyes. He didn't want to comply with the Doctor. He didn't want any of the methods – he wanted his wrists unbound. But as overwhelmed as he was, he did understand the Doctor's reasoning. If their roles were reversed, he would have the most painful method of restraint inside the Doctor's veins. But he had to admit that that was more out of his own sadism than protection.

"Give me the collar, since I'm a dog to you." He spat forward, sending saliva on to the Doctor's cheek. He wiped it off without making a scene.

"Master, I'd rather –"

"So when your dog wants to be put on a lead you tell him no? You ask your pet to make a decision but no, he can't even be trusted for that?"

"No. Master – alright. I'll go fetch the collar..."

They looked at each other for a long while. The Doctor hadn't wanted him to pick that. He didn't want the Master to be in pain at any point. However he knew why the Master had chosen that method. Because the pain, in some obscure way, gave him a chance to prove himself somehow, as if he were saying, "I can take the pain. I am not weak". He also knew that every time the Doctor would come in, it would serve as another reminder of his 'misery'. The Master could just see the guilt seeping through his eyelids and it made him smirk.

"Go on. Get my collar." He commanded. The Doctor got up and left, leaving the Master all alone.

The Master was tired. His eyes drooped the second the Doctor left. His sleep had been riddled with dark thoughts that kept him from rest. Even though the Doctor's arm around him the night before had calmed the sound of the drums, his manacles disallowed him from comfort. He was only semi-aware that he'd made his way forward on the bed and leaned up against the wall, out of it.

When the Doctor returned, he didn't hold a collar of any kind. He just had a small box that looked a bit like a first aid kid and, of course, his sonic. He turned the latch and the Master shook awake, not wanted to appear tired. "It's alright." The Doctor said, "You can go back to sleep – I'd rather you get some rest."

"No!" The Master snarled, louder than he'd anticipated. "No. Why haven't you got the collar?" Although he didn't want it to, genuine curiosity crept into his voice.

"I didn't want you to have that. I don't want you to have any physical constraints, okay?"

The Master said nothing more, but gave him a stare that spoke too many things.

The Doctor sat down next to him and opened the case. The Master turned away from him, leaving the back of his neck exposed. The Doctor brushed his fingers against the tip of his spine. "I need to put it here."

The Master only grunted in a response. The Doctor found a tube of what could only be described as ointment and rubbed it gently on the Master's neck. "This'll numb the pain."

"I don't need an anesthetic."

"Yes you do." The Doctor blew on it gently and watched the Master give a barely noticeable shiver. "Tell me if it hurts at all."

The Doctor had only made a couple small incisions before placing the tiny chip inside his skin. He noticed the Master's muscles tense up, but he did not speak or say anything to signify the pain. Quickly, the Doctor sealed it back up with a gel that accelerated the white blood cell count, helping the healing process go faster.

"Master?" he asked when he noticed him dozing off.

He jumpstarted. "Yeh? What?"

"I'm going to take off your handcuffs now."

"You'd be so kind as to do that?" he muttered. The Doctor drew out his sonic and unlatched the lock. The cuffs fell away and the Master's hands hung limply as if they didn't know what to do with themselves. They stayed there for a second too long – the Doctor took them gently in his (which were slightly larger and thinner), and set them gently forward into the Master's lap, in the motion the Doctor brought his own arms around the Master. With the Doctor's arms still present, the Master rubbed his wrists, trying to usher life back into them. Weakly, he pushed the Doctor's hands away.

"You seem a bit tired." The Doctor narrated the obvious.

The Master just shot him a glance. "Leave."

The Doctor looked at him with a mix of emotions, suddenly feeling a bit more wary of this man, now that he had no handcuffs on – no restraints. "Just holler if you need anything." The Doctor felt the urge to kiss his forehead or at the very least touch him, but he knew that it simply wouldn't be appropriate now. Instead he got up and went to the door but he stood there for a moment.

"Get out." The Master snarled.

"No need for harsh tones, Master." The Doctor said almost sadly before he left the room, carefully locking the door behind him.