"Hello Sorley. It's been twelve months since you saved Donna. I know you wouldn't have approved of it, but I even tried entering your mind to see what was wrong…" he trailed off, gripping her hand. There had been nothing structurally wrong with her mind, it just felt like it was asleep or gone. The Doctor didn't know how to fix something like that. Surface commands to prod her awake hadn't worked. He didn't want to risk delving deeper when there was nothing remotely life-threatening about her situation. To delve deeper under such circumstances without permission would have repercussions. He had read all the books he could possibly find on this but he was still no closer to getting a solution or an answer to why she was still asleep. He fiddled with the straw hat and pink lei. "I went to space Hawaii. They have me a pretty pink lei. Well I have to go… Ood-Sigma has been calling for me for awhile." He groaned. "I don't want to go."
He huffed and stood. "I'll be back in a bit."
The Doctor stepped out of the Tardis. The large white flakes sailed closer from the ashen skies. He half glanced at the Tardis, his mind thinking of the girl that had laid in his med-bay for almost ten months now. He would have delayed even longer had he been alone, but he wasn't. The Ood, the telepathic species might have some inkling to her problem.
"The things I do for you Sorley…" he mumbled. He tucked his hand in his pockets, eyeing the Ood that was waiting up ahead. "So, where were we? I was summoned, wasn't I? An Ood, in the snow, calling to me. Well, I didn't exactly come straight here. Had a bit of fun, y'know, travelled about, did this and that. Got into trouble, you know me. It was brilliant. I saw the Phosphorous Carousel of the Great Magellan Gestadt. Saved a planet from the Red Carnivorous Maw. Named a galaxy Alison. Got married. That was a mistake. Good Queen Bess, and let me tell you, her nickname is no longer..." He cleared his throat, realizing he was rambling. "Anyway... what d'you want?"
"You should not have delayed," Ood-Sigma blandly replied.
"The last time I was here, you said my song would be ending soon. And I'm in no hurry for that." He wouldn't even here now had it not been for Sorley. He paused in mid-thought. "Better lock the Tardis."
Pulling his key out, he pointed it at the Tardis and the Tardis beeped like it was a car locking. "See? Like a car. I locked it like a car. Like… it's funny. No? Little bit? Blimey, try to make an Ood laugh."
'Donna and Sorley would have laughed at it.' He thought. That had been the whole reason why he installed it. He had installed in two months after he had sent Donna home. Yes, he had been bored and frustrated. The manual that he found miraculously in The Library mentioned something remote control for the Tardis. How a Tardis type 40 manual had been stored in The Library, he had no idea. There was no one who was capable of reading gallifreyan left alive apart from him. The Doctor was inclined to investigate the coincidence. It was no surprise that the librarians didn't even have a code for that particular book. It wasn't supposed to be there. The Tardis did like to do that in her own library.
He followed the Ood to a city carved from stone and ice. The tall spiralling structures carved in intricate details seemed to sparkle in the dull sunlight.
"Ah! Magnificent!" He chuckled and nudged the Ood. "Oh, come on! That is… splendid! You've achieved all this in how long?"
"100 years," the Ood said monotonously.
"Then we've got a problem, 'cos all of this is way too fast. Not just the city, I mean your ability to call me. Reaching all the way back to the 21st century. Something's accelerating your species way beyond normal."
"And the Mind of the Ood is troubled."
"Why, what's happened?"
"Every night, Doctor. Every night, we have bad dreams."
They entered a cave and with prompting from Ood-Sigma, he joined hands with the Oods. A crackling face that he recognized as the Master, the crying Lucy, the worried Wilf, all of it blending into the vision that swarm from in front of his face.
"That can't be right! The Master is dead! I burnt his body!"
"Something more is happening, Doctor. The Master is part of a greater design, because a shadow is falling over creation. Something vast is stirring in the dark. The Ood have gained this power to see through time because time is bleeding. Shapes of things once lost are moving through the veil. And these vents from years ago threaten to destroy this future. And the present and the past." the Elder Ood told him.
"What do you mean?"
"This is what we have seen, Doctor. The darkness heralds only one thing, the end of time itself."
Ood-Stigma stopped the Doctor as he began to run back to the Tardis. "Remember Doctor. Your song is ending but it's not the end. What we call the beginning is often the end, and to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we all start from."
The Doctor hesitated. There was something strangely familiar about that line. He turned, running or maybe fleeing from the images he saw. Faster and faster, further and further.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
It burnt. Everything burnt. He wasn't full. He wasn't whole. He hungered. Hungered for meat, hungered for flesh, hungered for energy. Oh yes. Energy. The sweet taste of energy, the sweet taste of the life force of a man.
One, two, three, four.
He screamed. The walls around him closing. Banging, banging. Screaming for someone to hear him, screaming for someone to stop him, screaming to break free. He was too weak, far too weak.
One, two, three, four.
Don't kill them! Kill them! Pathetic humans. They live. They are living beings. Human beings! Not worth of a scrap of attention.
Energy.
He felt the surge of energy as he watched on horrified. NO! PLEASE! He banged again. He raged, he burnt.
One, two, three, four.
Save them. Kill them. Help them. Eat them.
One, two, three, four.
The bleeding drums. He flinched, pressing his hands against his ears. It gnawed at him. The pounding of it in his skull. His face contorted into a smiling madman. He was the madman. Trapped in his mind, trapped by the sound of the drums. His whole trembled as he struggled maintain power over his body. The drum beats. It sang. It demanded attention. It demanded… He turned away, forcing him to focus on anything but the sound of it.
One, two, three, four.
The smell. Oh, the sweet delicious smell. The Doctor was here! The voice in his head sang. He hoped again and again that the Doctor would stop him. The drums. It pulsed in his blood. Oh Doctor, Doctor. Have you come to stop me? Please stop me!
One, two, three, four.
The Doctor was here. He had counted on it. How dare the Doctor think he could stop him. He was the Master. The undisputed Genius, he was Time Lord that overcame time. He cackled wildly. He turned, the Doctor stood there scrutinizing him. Dear old friend, he tried to reach out mentally. He was burning. How dare he come. How dare he stop him time and time again. He poured the burning energy into his hands.
No! Don't kill him!
He managed to change the trajectory just as the energy left his hands. He pleaded the Doctor to walk away, the Doctor would never walk away. The Doctor would never give up on him. If only he could tell him how proud he was to have him as a friend. Despite everything he had done to the Doctor again and again, the Doctor always kept the promise they made in the academy: the promise to stop him.
The drums rumbled. It demanded blood. It demanded sacrifice.
The infuriating man. Always coming to stop him, did he think he was so good? He poured the energy into his hands again.
No!
He managed to change the trajectory again. No! The drumbeats were angry.
One, two, three, four.
KILL! It pulsated fiercely. KILL! He brought his hands together, rubbing, burning, gathering the energy. He couldn't stop it. The drums were too loud. They were too angry.
One, two, three, four.
He poured the energy into the Doctor. His stomach churned furiously at it. Don't die! Die you stupid old fool! No!
The Doctor was stumbling. The Master ran forward to catch him. He prayed fervently that the Doctor wasn't dead. He looked into the Doctor's eyes. They stared at each other. He struggled to break free. He struggled to tell the Doctor something, anything to indicate he was still there. That a remnant of his academy days was still there. He pounded and screamed at the drums. The wall of noise holding him back from doing anything but what the drums wanted.
Don't give up on me. He pleaded.
One, two, three, four.
The drums forced him to release his hold on the Doctor. It was angry. It was furious.
"I had estates. Do you remember my father's land, back home? Pastures of red grass stretching far across the slopes of Mount Perdition." He sighed. He mentally cringed. He had been sane then. "We used to run across those fields all day, calling up at the sky." He sank to the ground. "Look at use now."
The Doctor struggled in pain. "All that eloquence. But how many people have you killed?"
"I am so hungry."
"Your resurrection went wrong. That energy… Your body's ripped open. Now you're killing yourself," the Doctor tried to reason with him. Silly blubbering fool, hadn't he known that he would never listen? How many times had he tried to stop him?
How many times have he stopped you? He asked himself that. It wasn't really himself. The Master didn't want to think of him as that madman. He was more than a madman. He was the pinnacle of what the Time Lords could achieve. So many things that were adopted by the Time Lords had came from him even when they forgot that it had originated from him. He was the Master and the silly old blubbering fool was only a Doctor. Trapped in the prison of noise, he shook his head at the drums. The Doctor would always stop him because the Doctor was so much better than he was. The drums roared savagely.
"And that's human Christmas out there. They eat so much. All that roasting meat, cakes and red wine. Hot, fat, blood food. Pots, plates of meat and flesh and grease and juice. And baking, burnt, sticky hot skin. Hot! It's so hot! Slice! Slice Slice! It's mine! It's mine! It's mine! It's mine! Eat it! Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!"
One, two, three, four.
He was too far gone. He clutched his head. The bloody drums. They're so needy. Always wanting something. They pound and plead and wail and howl. They roar and shrink. Beating beating beating. Always beating. Never stopping. Always beating. They hurt. They hurt so bad. The Master struggled to control himself. He always won. Even the Doctor knew it. He looked at the Master with those eyes. He hated those eyes. The eyes that knew he might have to kill him for the good of the universe, for the good of the natives.
One, two, three, four.
"What if I ask you for help? There's more at work tonight than you and me."
"Oh yeah?" He scoffed at the Doctor. What was he up to now? Always talking. He talks too much. He always talks too much. He could barely hear the drums behind the talking.
One, two, three, four.
"I've been told something is returning."
"And here I am!" Like that wasn't obvious. No. The Doctor learnt to talk a lot because of him. It helped him in the academy.
One, two, three, four.
"No, it was something more."
One, two, three, four.
Always the talking. The drums aren't happy at not being paid attention to. "But it hurts," he moaned, grabbing his head.
"I was told the end of time…" The Doctor continued, trying to keep talking or keep the drums at bay. The drums are smarter now. They throbbed angrily when they aren't being listened to.
He needs silence. He needs to listen to them. He needs the drums. He needs the beat.
"It hurts, Doctor. The noise… The noise in my head. Doctor. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. Stronger than ever before! Can't you hear it?"
It hurt.
"I'm sorry."
One, two, three, four.
"Listen, listen, listen, listen! Every minute, every second, every beat of my hearts, there it is… calling to me. Please listen."
One, two, three, four.
"I can't hear it."
Koschei, in a moment of control, grabbed the Doctor's head, pressing the drums into his mind.
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
The drums are happy to share. The drums are happy to be heard. They beat happily.
"But that's…!" The Doctor pushed him away.
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
"What?" He was angry. Why did the Doctor move away? The drums are angry now. They demand to be shared. He knows the drums are real now. He knows that.
"I heard it. But there's no noise, there never has been. It's just your insanity. It's the… what is it? What's inside your head?"
He laughed hysterically. "It's real! It's real! It's REAL!" It always was real. He was never crazy. Crazy crazy crazy. Oh he was crazy. He was the Master yet slave to the drumming in his head. He laughed, the energy springing from his hands, zooming into the sky.
"All these years, you thought I was mad. King of the wasteland. But something is calling me, Doctor. What is it? What is it? What is it?"
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
He had to stop the drumming. The drums beating every minute, every second. Stop beating! He raged at the drums in his head. The light, oh what was the light. Was that what was calling for him?
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
The drums continued beating even as he fell into oblivion.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Donna was opening presents with her family when she heard the familiar wheezing in her backyard. Finally the man arrives! She rolled her eyes and hurried out to the backyard.
"There you are Doctor. Late!" Her eyes slid to the closed door and then to the single figure that stood outside it. "Where's Sorley?"
"She's… still asleep in the med-bay. Where's Wilf? I need to talk to him." The Doctor stormed into the house. "Wilf? Wilf? Come out!"
"Doctor? What happened?" Donna torn between seeing Sorley and finding out what happened. She saw the Doctor deep into conversation with her gramps. Deciding quickly, she stepped into the Tardis, this time pleasantly surprised by the warm sensation at the back of her mind. It was the sensation of the Tardis, something she hadn't felt when she was a human. Being half Time Lord meant she got something out of it, Donna mulled. She paused at the monitor. The circular gallifreyan now made sense to her. The linear timing was different.
One year. The Doctor was gone for one year. It had been six months for her and one year of solitary travelling for him. He should have just hopped to Christmas when Sorley hadn't woken for a prolonged period. He wasn't suited for solitary travelling. She was going to scold him when she spoke to him after seeing Sorley. One year of sleeping? Donna puzzled over it and felt immensely guilty. Sorley had wasted a year of her life and still counting to save her. She held her hand through the medi-gel and squeezed Sorley's hand.
"Wakey wakey Sorley!" She poked Sorley's cheeks. "Maybe she just needs her prince to kiss her." Donna said. For some reason, the thought of the Doctor kissing Sorley popped into her head. She was about to remove her hand when she realized that apart from the sensation that she recognized as the Tardis, there was this faint feeling. She could barely feel it, but it was there. Donna hurried to the console room where the Doctor was running around the console, pressing buttons and flicking switches.
"Doctor?" She called out. The first question that popped into her mind was where were they going? But the second more pressing question about Sorley formed on her mouth. "You know-"
Her gramps was in the console room.
"Gramps? What are you doing here?" She watched him stare at the console room with a bemused look. "Yes bigger on the inside."
"I thought it'd cleaner."
Donna snorted. Only her gramps would say that. "Doctor—" She started again, remembering her question.
"Not now Donna. Busy."
"Yea but. You know—"
"Chasing this man called Naismith. Have to plot the timeline, map the probability vectors and stay relative to the Master within the causal nexus."
"Yes yes. But Sorley—Hold on. Hold on. Did you just say the Master?"
He paused in his motions. "What about Sorley? Yes I did say the Master."
She had moved to pointed at the direction where she came from when she realize the Doctor had said the Master. "You mean the crazy man with the beard. The one that's trying to take over the world. He's here? Like alive. Like here?"
"Well… yes."
"That's…" She struggled to find a word to describe the feeling that surge within her. Horror, fear and then guilt for feeling that way.
"Yes. Precisely." He waved her away from the console. "No, no, no. Donna, don't pilot the Tardis. I need to scan you to check if everything settled as it should first. Later. After I settled all this."
The Tardis jerked. "That was definitely a learn-to-drive Doctor jerk," Donna remarked, she turned to her right only to find her granddad hanging into the railings for his life. Sorley had always stood there. Just five minutes in the Tardis and Donna was already missing Sorley's presence. How had the Doctor endured the absence of both of them?
"Is it always this bumpy?" Wilf asked.
"Only when he drives."
"Hey! I can take you back home right now!" The Doctor threatened, pointing at Donna in mock anger. He missed her jibes so badly. The Doctor never considered it possible, but he missed the 2 gingers ganging up on him.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The Master found himself at the mansion with Naismith. The pitiful human who wanted immortality. Bounded and tied as though it'd stop him if he truly wanted to break free. Oh no, the Master sensed something was greater at work. He would stay and bide his time.
One, two, three, four.
The gate! The drums were driving him mad. He willed himself to ignore the pounding drums. The pounding headache it induced was something he had lived with for over nine hundred years. The Doctor and him had originally sought to stop him. No. It had always only been him. The Doctor, like everyone else, had thought he was mad. The Doctor had merely agreed to find a cure so that he could keep an eye on him. He could just imagine the sneer on his father's face when he told him about the drums. No, his father was not sneering, his father was worried. The father had thought he was insane as well. Everyone on Gallifrey knew what happened to the insane.
One, two, three, four.
Leave! That's why he left! No. That was not why he left. He didn't want to leave. Why did he leave? The Master couldn't remember anymore. The drums. All he remembered was the drums.
One, two, three, four.
He could smell the Doctor. He was coming. The drums pounded happily. He could feel the heat in his blood coursing through him in anticipation.
"Better get to work." The Master cracked his fingers and began clacking on the keyboard.
One, two, three, four.
It throbbed. The sound resounded loudly in his mind like a never ending drum beat. Oh that was genius, describing a drum beat sound to a drum beat sound. His lips curled in a sneer. He pushed everything away. Just focusing on fixing the gate helped to keep the growing drumming away.
One, two, three, four.
"One, two, three, four," he muttered softly under his breath. He sounded totally insane. The Master found he didn't care anymore. He would do anything to keep the drums happy, to keep the drums under control, to keep the drums away.
Oh he could hear the pathetic humans moaning away about some boxing day. Yap yap. How did the Doctor ever like them? Somewhere in the back of his head, a small bit of him shook disappointed at his reaction to the humans. 'They weren't pathetic,' the small bit of him muttered. Yap yap. He pushed the drums to the small bit. He could see it cringe. Feebly banging itself against the noise. Pathetic, just like the humans.
The pathetic humans were calling him Saxon. Really. They were so deplorable that they just couldn't figure that Harold Saxon wasn't his real name. What a human name.
One, two, three, four.
"My name… is the Master," he corrected them. He pressed the enter key, watching the gate power up. Oh the small puny humans. They thought it was some mending machine, some gate to immortality. It was so much more. They would never be able to appreciate the full value of the machine with their small minds.
"The visitor will now be restrained."
The Master had expected this. Did they really think a straitjacket and a collar was going to stop a Time Lord? Maybe if he was the Doctor, it might work, but he was the Master. He was the Lord above everyone, the man who overcame everything. He smirked, obediently allowing them to strap him up. It was almost ready.
One, two, three, four.
The drums pulsated at his plans, at his thoughts. If he could hear the drums so loudly now, what if everyone on the planet could hear them?
"Turn the Gate off, right now!" The Doctor yelled, slamming into the room.
Oh the poor Doctor. Always here to crash a party. The small part of him called out in relief. The Master scoffed at it, stomping it hard with the drums. Oh yes! The drums loved that. Stomping, ripping, smashing, shredding. It bubbled with glee.
One, two, three, four.
Not long now. It seemed to sing.
He didn't know what it meant but if it meant he could find out where it was from or what it was, anything would be fine. The Master found he could care less about anything else, much less pathetic little humans.
He ripped the straitjacket off with his energy, leaping into the Gate with great excitement.
"Homeless, was I" The Master said snidely. He grinned, his lips curling wildly at the Doctor's horrified look. "Destitute and dying? Well, look at me now."
"Deactivate it. All of you, turn the whole thing off!" The Doctor demanded.
'Too late, Theta,' the small voice in the tiny prison said to nothing but the monster that controlled him.
The Master howled with laughter at the Doctor's attempt.
"Get out of there!" The Doctor half pleaded.
One, two, three, four.
"Too late… Doctor," the Master sneered, shooting a bolt at him.
"Doctor! Doctor, there's this face…" Wilf started.
Donna pushed Wilf behind her, upon seeing the Master. She glanced at the Doctor who gotten off the floor and was frantically sonicking the controls.
"The gun," Wilf pushed his old gun to Donna who absentmindedly pocketed it.
"I can't turn it off!" he wailed.
Oh the silly Doctor. Did he really think that the Master would have overlooked such a minor thing?
"That's because I locked it, idiot," he scoffed.
The Doctor looked at him horrified. "Do you even have any idea what you're doing?"
The Master looked at him evenly. Did the Doctor even doubt his genius? He had realized it the moment he had set eyes on the thing. Oh yes, he was that good. The Doctor could never hope to compete with him, the Master. The Doctor needed his little sonic screwdriver to even get close to him. The master giggled at the desperate look of the Doctor.
'Koschei, tell me you're still there.' Came the telepathic voice of the Doctor. The need for reassurance and despair came so strongly that the Master nearly staggered back from the Doctor's telepathic sending.
One, two, three, four.
"Nope. Just me, The Master. Lord of everything," he grinned.
One, two, three, four.
Koschei banged leaned his head against the noise of wall, frantically trying to reply. He was far too weak, the drums were far too loud, far too dominant. There was barely anything left in him to pull control back. This was the end. Koschei had came to terms with it for a long time now. The last time he had been destroyed, he had thanked the Doctor. The Doctor understood in a way that he hadn't exactly been him. He had always been that compassionate soul that cared more for people than his own self. That was why the Doctor had left Gallifrey to start with. The Doctor had come in pursue of him, to stop him, to uphold the pact.
There was the fear in the Doctor's eyes. The same fear he had seen when he laid there dying in the Doctor's arms on the Valiant. The same fear he had seen when The Doctor watched him be executed by the Daleks. There was no coming back from a permanent death.
"So who am I talking to?" The Doctor's snide question asked. He had masked his fear and desperate in a cool calm mask.
One, two, three, four.
"I am The Master." He spun around with his hands held up. "But now's not the time for those questions. You're gonna love this. Ready?"
The humans' heads shook back and forth at an ridiculous speed and the Doctor watched on horrified. "You can't have!"
"Grand dad!" Donna cried out, she clutched her grand dad, watching his head turn into the Master. "Doctor! They're.. they've all turned into him! What have you done, you monster!?"
She stalked towards the Master and stared with every bit of Donna's version of oncoming storm that she could muster.
"Donna- No." The Doctor tried to pull her back, but she shook him off fiercely.
She pointed at the Master. "He just turned my Grand dad into… that… and you say no? He's a monster! He should be…" She grabbed her head as the sudden memory of The Master in his academy days flashed through her mind. "Oh."
She glanced at the Doctor who stared back sadly. "Yes." The Doctor replied. His shoulders slumped forward dejectedly.
"So who am I talking to?" he glared at the Master.
One, two, three, four.
"I am the Master."
"Yes. That's what I've assumed so had I not heard the drums. The drums were real. I was wrong." The Doctor hung his head, his hands tucked into his pockets. "He had been trying to tell me about it over the centuries. I always thought he was steadily growing crazy."
The Master smirked. "Oh. I have always been steadily growing crazy." He waved his hands, his clones quickly tying both Donna and Doctor into chairs. "Always crazy."
One, two, three, four.
He tapped his temple, flashing them a large smile that beamed from ear to ear. "I wondered.. wondered, wondered, wondered. What are they?"
The Master stopped in front of the Doctor, placing his hands on the armrests. He leaned forward. His mouth started to move then like a flash, his smile dropped. "What are they, Doctor?"
The Doctor's eyes widened in recognition and then it was over.
One, two, three, four.
The Master frowned briefly. "How persistent. You'd think he'd have learnt to just lie down and roll over."
"Don't lose. You can fight it."
"Too late. He's gone now. His part is over." He placed his finger on his lips. "Shssss. Listen." He closed his eyes.
"Master-" The Doctor started. The Master gagged the Doctor before resuming.
One, two, three, four.
"Listen, listen, listen, listen! It's coming!" The Master broke out in hysterical laughter. "Here comes the end of time!"
The Doctor stared at The Master horrified then at the screen that now showed the blazing trail across the Earth's atmosphere. The Master was never a stray piece as the Doctor had thought. He had always been part of it. He was the prophecy all along.
'Koschei. I know you're in there still. Fight it! You can do it.'
There was no reply, no response, not even a flicker of it left on the Master's face that laughed manically at him.
"Open up the nuclear bolt. Infuse the power lines to maximum."
"This is a terrible idea, Master," Donna spat out.
The Master smiled at her. "And why do you think so, half-breed?" What a freak she was. His mind registered her as a Time Lord yet not really. It was rather unnerving looking at her. Did she suddenly think she was better because she was half Time Lord now? The drums agreed happily.
One, two, three, four.
Oh, that thought made the drums happy. He placed the diamond that his clones had found and brought back for him into the device that he had just built speciality for this occasion.
"Oh yes. Now hear the drums!" He motioned his arms like a conductor conducting an orchestra. The machine lit up, pulsing the beat that had tormented him for so many years.
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
Koschei screamed. He crawled to the furthest corner, away from the pounding that seemed to bleed into him. He could see cracks forming ever since he managed to whisper that one sentence to the Doctor. The Doctor knew he was still there, hanging on. Hanging on. He looked at the prison. The sounds of the pounding drums only for company. He could see the mind of the drums.
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
The drums were real. They didn't just exist. They had steadily strove to take over him. Beating the sound into every inch of him, stealing every freedom and willpower from him. Hunting him, haunting him.
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
"What are you doing?" Donna asked, her voice was trembling, pulling attention away from the Doctor. She had seen what he was doing and quickly realized that for him to free himself, she would need to distract the Master.
"I thought you knew," he sneered. "Pathetic half-breed. Are you even using that Time Lord portion of yours? Oh, I guess you only have the Doctor's. That doesn't count for very much."
He tilted his head mockingly at her. "I'll have you know that the Doctor is the most brilliant man I've ever seen," Donna said, thrusting her chin up to him with a determined look in her eyes.
Koschei agreed. He's more than you could ever be, Master. He's defeated you many times over.
The Master chortled. "Oh yes. He is the most brilliant you I've ever seen…" He smiled widely. "If I was comparing him to a human. He's pretty much a joke to us, Time Lords. But that of course, excludes you. Half-breed."
The drums loved that word. Half-breed. He'd take extra effort to include it in every sentence.
"Clearly, you Lordys, can't see what matters then." Donna replied. "Blind fools. All of you were."
The Master laughed. "Perhaps. But that makes you one. A half-blind fool!"
"Yes, but you were so much more." The Doctor interjected, pulling the gag off. He stood up. Stalking towards Donna he ripped off the cords that bound her. "You could have been beautiful. With a mind like that, we could have travelled the stars."
The drums beat excitedly at something behind him. Spinning around, they watched five Time Lords materialized.
"Blimey…" Donna said. Rassilon frowned at her, quickly deciding to ignore her, he turned his attention to the Doctor and the Master. "My Lord Doctor. My Lord Master. We are gathered for the end."
The Doctor finally realizing what the device had been doing a little belatedly. "Listen to me. You can't…"
"It is a fitting paradox that our salvation comes at the hands of our most infamous child."
"Oh, he's not saving you. Don't you realise what he's doing?"
The Master looked at the Doctor then back at Rassilon. He didn't think he was possible, but the drumbeats pounded even louder than he had ever heard it do so. "Hey, no, hey! That's mine. Hush." He pointed at the Doctor. "Look around you. I've transplanted myself into every single human being. But who wants a mongrel little species like them? Because now I can transplant myself into every single Time Lord. Oh, yes, Mr President, sir, standing there all noble and resplendent and decrepit. Think how much better you're going to look as me!"
The drum beats laughed at his words. Rassilon held his gauntlet-covered hand and as it glowed, the human race returned to themselves.
"No! What are you doing! Why!? Stop it!" The Master cried out. He staggered, falling to his knees. The drums were angry for what he did. Angry, so angry!
One, two, three, four.
"Oh your knees, mankind." Rassilon said. Oh, the power of the Time Lord was so obvious especially in the voice of Rassilon. The humans could hear it, feel it and trembled at it. Without questioning, they kneeled, frightened of the strange beings.
"No, that's fine, that's good. Because you said salvation. I still saved you, don't forget that." The Master said quickly, hoping to get a slice of the pie while he still could.
"The approach begins."Rassilon looked up at the sky as though the Master had not spoken.
"The what?"
"Something is returning. Don't you ever listen? That was the prophecy. Not someone, something." The Doctor shot back angrily.
"What is it?"
"They're not just bringing back the species. It's Gallifrey. Right here, right now."
"But isn't that fantastic? The Time Lords restored."
"You weren't there." Donna stalked up to him, pointing hard into his chest. He glared at her. "I see them in his memories. It's not just the Time Lords that are coming back. The Daleks, the Skaro Degradations, the Hord of Travesties, the Nightmare Child, the Could-Have-Been King with his army of Meanwhiles and Never-weres. They're all coming back." She flung at hand at the glowing red planet that loomed closer. "Hell is descending you idiot!"
He scoffed. "My kind of world." The little bit of him in his tiny corner was horrified at her description.
"We will initiate the Final Sanction. The end of time will come at my hand. The rupture will continue, until it rips the Time Vortex apart. We will ascend to become creatures of consciousness alone, free of these bodies, free of time, and cause and effect, while creation itself ceases to be."
The Doctor pulled Donna back, behind him. On one side, he had Rassilon and his cronies, the other he had the Master. He glanced back and forth at them, pushing her to the side, away from him.
"Then take me with you. Let me ascend into glory." The drums roared with laughter at the Master's words. He frowned, not understanding why the drums were being so condescending now.
"You are diseased, albeit a disease of our own making. No more." Rassilon replied. The drums agreed.
The drums hummed in anticipation as Rassilon held out his gauntlet-covered hand. There was an audible click and the three men turned to Donna who stood there with the gun, Wilf had entrusted her with, pointing at Rassilon.
"Oh? The Half-breed decides to join the conversation." Rassilon smirked.
Half-breed. The way he spoke sounded just like how the drums would say it. It burnt. A roaring sound filled his ears and swamped his senses as Koschei realised exactly what Rassilon had meant. The prison walls shattered and a look of fury overcame the Master's confused face. His eyes not wavering as he stared at Rassilon, filled with hatred, hury.
"Get out of the way!" He pushed the Doctor aside, his hand glowing. "You did this to me!" The bolt strikes Rassilon in the chest, pushing him backwards.
The Doctor leapt to Donna, snatching the gun from her hands and shooting at the device. The machine burst into flames and the Gallifrey began to flicker.
"You made me! Tormenting me! All my life! Then listen to this! ONE TWO THREE FOUR!" Koschei shot the bolt at Rassilon in time to his counting.
"Back to hell," Donna whispered.
"Koschei!" The Doctor ran forth, pulling him away as the link sent Gallifrey back to where it came from.
Koschei lay there, panting. He was dying. The drums were angry. "It hurts," he moaned, clutching his head. "The pounding."
The Doctor gripped his hands. "Stay with me, Koschei." He placed his hands on Koschei's temple and without hesitation, he delved into Koschei's mind. Koschei struggled to keep the drumbeats at bay. The remnants of the anger aiding his control over his mind and body but he knew his mind was an utter mess. The Doctor wept at the agony that his best friend had undergone for all those years. This time, knowing exactly what he was looking for, the Doctor searched Koschei's mind, leaving no stone unturned. There in a corner of the mind, he found it. The beat, the signal placed out of sync in his own mind, safely hidden from everyone except those who knew exactly what they was looking for. The Doctor pulled it out forcibly then sent bits of his regeneration energy to aid the energy lost in Koschei's body.
Koschei clenched the Doctor's hands. The silence. All his life, he had wished them gone. "It's so quiet."
"I've sent some regeneration energy to stabilize your energy lost. I think after we go back to the medbay, I can do a more thorough scan and attempt to fix it."
Koschei nodded, not really paying attention. All he could hear was the silence and the emptiness in him now. He laughed. At first it was just laughing, but the more he laughed, the more he found he couldn't stop. He looked at the Doctor who was now staring at him worried and it made him laugh even maniacally.
"Is he alright?" Donna asked, her eyes squinting a bit from the headache that was beginning to grow.
"I hope so…" The Doctor lifted his eyes to meet Donna's and frowned at her. "What's wrong?"
She waved his concerned face away. "Just a headache. Be fine when I take an aspirin or something later."
"Probably not aspirin. You're half Time Lord now, that makes you likely to be allergic to it," Koschei said, finally sobering up.
"Are you okay?" The Doctor pulled him up.
"Yea. Had a moment there." The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows at Koschei. Koschei shrugged in response. "I always complained about the incessant drumbeats. You removed them and now all I can think of is this… silence… this emptiness at where the drums seemed to fill. Just found it funny."
"Oh my god. Doctor!" Donna stepped away from him. His hands had started to glow.
"You're regenerating… because of me…" Koschei looked at the Doctor in remorse. "I'm sorry."
The Doctor shook his head. "Don't be. It's my honour to. I'm sorry it took me so long to find a cure."
"Thank you." Koschei squeezed his hand and stepped away.
The glow overtook the Doctor, his features changing. Floppy hair, a strong chin, dark green eyes meeting Donna's. "Hello! How do I look?"
"Wait don't tell me." He looked down. "Legs. I've still got legs, good." He kissed his knee, testing it.
"Arms. Hands. Ooh, fingers, lots of fingers. Ears, yes. Eyes, two. Nose, I've had worse. Chin, blimey. Hair..." He ran his hand through his hair feeling the length and began to panic. He turned to Koschei wide eyed. "I'm a girl!"No! No... I'm not a girl." He declared, finding his adam's apple. "And still not ginger!" At that statement, Koschei roared with laughter.
"What's so funny?" Donna quirked at eyebrow at Koschei.
"Well. Ever since he saw Brax had ginger hair, he's always wanted one. All of us in the Deca had ginger hair at one point or another, all of us but him."
"I'm never going to be ginger!" He moaned, taking the Tardis key out, he sonicked it to summon it.
"You finally got the remote working."
"I was bored." The Doctor strode into the Tardis. "Med bay first for the two of you. Donna first…" he glanced at Koschei who stood awkwardly by the door.
"I can stay here-" Koschei motioned at the doorway. "I can understand if you don't want me near the console."
The Doctor sighed. "Mast-"
Koschei grimaced. "Please call me Koschei. I… I don't think I was really me when I picked it." He slumped onto the bench. "I don't think I had much control over myself towards the… end. The title is distasteful."
The Doctor nodded. "I trust you." Giving Koschei a little squeeze on the shoulder, the duo walked towards the med bay, falling into conversation.
Koschei looked at the console room. It was very grunge, very different from the console room he remembered it to be. The Tardis hummed happily as he sent a telepathic apology to her. Oh, she had always known that he was not quite himself. It was odd how comforting that she had accepted it.
"-So you'll pick me up in four months, yea?" Donna's voice echoed into the console room as she walked down the stairs. "Your turn, spaceboy. Gonna look for my granddad."
"She's… half Time Lord. How?" Koschei asked. He made his way round the console, patting the console.
"Well there was the D-" The Tardis hummed loudly, the time rotor began wheezing, glowing brightly. "What did happened!? It's dematerializing!"
"I don't know!" Koschei retorted. "I can't remove my hand! I was just patting it!"
The Doctor jumped down the stairs, trying to pull Koschei's hand off the console. The console grew brighter and brighter then engulfed Koschei, knocking the Doctor back. Parts of the grating burst flames. A sudden explosion rocked the Tardis. The Doctor whirled back to the console, frantically trying to stop whatever that was occurring. Koschei fell to his knees, gasping loudly. He felt… stable, filled with energy. It felt like the Tardis had transplanted her own energy into him.
"We're crashing!" The Doctor yelled as he felt his own stomach plummeting with the Tardis. "Koschei! Go to the med bay and secure Sorley!"
Koschei didn't know who Sorley was, but he made his way to the med bay, shuffling against the explosions that was still rocking the Tardis. A girl, wearing a white dress, lay on the bed. Or should have been, the medi-gel was draining from the bed and she was lying on the floor with a blossoming bruise on her forehead.
He reached over to pick her up and suddenly the room disappeared. The silence, no. Not the silence. The sound of the explosions, the humming of the Tardis was gone. They weren't on the Tardis anymore. Koschei, still carrying Sorley, whipped around staring confused at his surroundings. He was in… Cardiff? Why on earth was he on Cardiff?
Then everything went black.
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Next chapter : Non-canon - Trapped