YAY the reviews are awesome thanks :D *basks in happiness.*

Don't feel you can't tear me a new one if you have constructive criticism either. I note everything and try to improve and one day I will find time to fix previous chapters promise.

Sorry if the chapters seem short… There might be a 2nd part to this particular chapter I think (Feels unfinished)… Hopefully soon. Either way. new chapter soon .hopefully.

Warnings:

References to Spousal Abuse…(Lucy/Master) and Violence, and a tiny bit of blood.

The Master not being a very patient and good teacher. Mycroft trying to learn Telepathy from a maniac.

Chapter 10

Mycroft thought he had never truly been so close to tears in his entire life as he had in this one moment. Not for himself. Never in his adulthood had he once shed tears for himself, and only once had he ever shed tears for his brother.

Now laying on his bed curled in a tight ball trying to breathe through pain that should have left marks or some kind of evidence… something anything that might heal, not sure if the pain would ever stop, he fought back tears of hurt and frustration.

"You aren't even trying Miky!" growled the Master for the umpteenth time in the last hour of an on-going morning.

"Perhaps harsher incentives are in order." The Master thought out loudly to himself as Mycroft gasped loudly turning away from the Master as his body arched to almost impossible amounts. The screwdriver in The Masters hand glowing more viciously as the power increased. Mycroft cried out unwillingly, trying to focus on trying to focus on the crew aboard the ship, trying to focus on their thoughts. Made all the harder by the Master making him feel like he was being flayed alive.

"You are not filling your part of the deal Mycroft, I told you to do as I said when I said it." The Master muttered distracted reaching down to start undoing his belt. The screwdriver dropping onto the bed power turning off allowing him a moments breath only to realise what The Master had planned his watery eyes springing open to stare unable to speak, his voice gone from hours of screaming.

"I suppose we'll have to go back to something that works." Grumbled the Master as if it was something that he didn't particularly wanted to do. Mycroft beginning to panic kicking back toward the other side of the bed, trying to focus harder on the crew shaking his head.

"No…trying Master. Trying!" he croaked the Masters hand grabbing his ankle tugging him closer.

Everything seemed to stop in that one moment, the world stopped spinning, the hand was no longer there and he was aware of everything on the ship. Hundreds of Thoughts rushing into his head forcing themselves into his own thoughts. His body going still, eyes wide unaware of where the Master was unable to think as he felt the thoughts filling his head.

It suddenly became too much, unable to breath or focus, feeling himself drowning in a sea of human thought and emotion. Unable to grasp onto a single one of his thoughts, aware of everything and everything, wanting NEEDING silence in his head. He was drowning and didn't know how to swim, he needed to hold onto something but there was nothing.

"Please! Make it stop! I…stop please!" shouted Mycroft with a silent voice, trying to close his thoughts. Everything again slowed down as if every person who's mind he had accessed became aware that he was there. A hundred thoughts stopping in unison as if hundreds of people had suddenly stopped to stare at him having heard him.

And he became aware of 3 omnipresent minds in his own. The Masters footprints were there but he wasn't in the same space. The warm sensation he had so often felt was that of the Doctors who was everywhere not only within him. As if he were part of the human thought system…

There in the centre of his mind as if on a pedestal stood Sherlock as if waiting for him. The hundreds of minds around his own silently murmuring as if confused. Not knowing what was going on but aware. Sherlock was different. He was aware of him, willing to actually help instead of demanding things he didn't know how to do, and suddenly the murmuring voices stopped, and Sherlock was gone he was in his own mind on his own.

Opening his eyes he sat up sweating and shaking looking around not sure for what before he remembered the Master, looking around startled to find the Master knocked out on the side of his bed, he couldn't fight back a smirk, a strong urge to end the miserable bastards life before things got worse but all he had was his umbrella that had been disarmed. He'd have to wait another opportunity.

Slipping out of bed with great difficulty he somehow managed to pull the Master onto his bed blinking to find his belt undone but not doing anything, staggering to the bathroom needing to get himself back together hoping the Master wouldn't blame him for this, knowing that hopes were slim on that chance, before coming face to face with himself in the mirror, instantly hating the panic he registered in his gaze the moment he stood still. The Master on his bed in the background.

He spun around to stare at the Master on his bed out cold, breathing normally though as if sleeping. He could kill the man he thought to himself staring at him with hatred. He didn't need anything. A pillow would do. But could you kill a Time Lord? It was too much to risk…or was it? Ending all this right there would be something that should really be his duty. But this could be a test. He shuddered to think of what the Master would inflict upon him if the man didn't die.

Walking slowly over to the Master he picked up a pillow that had somehow ended up at the end of the bed, looking down at the man, holding it tightly in his hand, staring at him standing beside his bed trying to gain the courage to do try to kill him. Taking a step forward he felt so close to ending it all.

It happened as quickly as his mind decided that it needed to end this now. Claws digging into his shoulder shoving him off into the opposite wall with strength that Mycroft would never have expected of Lucy Saxon. Followed by a sharp slap that left 4 parallel lines across his cheek already seeping blood. Lucy looking wild.

"Don't you hurt my husband." The wild woman before him hissed , standing protectively between her husband and Mycroft looking fierce.

Mycroft gave up all thought of killing the Master, deciding to berate himself later for being too much of a coward to end the Masters life then and there, staring at Lucy calmly the pillow back on the bed where it had started in the first place.

"Now I think you had better calm down. Harold wasn't feeling very well so I put him on my bed so that he didn't hurt himself." He said in a soft assured voice that he hoped would calm her.

It didn't help at all, she went silent for a moment while recognition registered in her gaze… something told him then and there that if she had more than her nails right now he'd be dead.

"You are the filthy tart that stole his attentions!" She all but yelled. Any proof of the fact that she was a lady flew out the window down thousands of leagues to hit the ground bellow in that moment.

She launched herself at him tugging at his thinning hair trying to gouge out his eyes, her knee resting in a very, very tender spot as she slapped and scratched at him. Mycroft starting to loose his patience grabbed hold of her wrists remembering that this was another of the Masters toys and breaking her would end badly for both of them, rolling her over with an efficient move, trying to focus on trying to calm her.

He remembered the feel of Sherlock's presence in his mind when he was panicking the source and the guidance, he had her unable to move, his gaze searching her wild gaze seeing her for the once strong woman that she had been, now reduced to the Masters trophy wife… something inside him told him that he was slowly turning into Lucy. A dummy to be used for the Masters pleasure and nothing more.

He fought back his own panic once more, forcing his calming thoughts on her and to some miracle it worked she had gone instantly calm and passed out .Promising her that one day she would get her will. Finally she went limp allowing him to stand up looking back at the Master who'd awaken a moment ago. Looking groggy and taking in the scene before him. Mycroft hoped the scratch-mark's would go in his favour.

The Masters gaze ran over Mycroft to his wife and back to Mycroft before grinning. "Well done Miky. Proud of you. You are getting there. And here I thought you were useless… Now come over here." Said the Master in a soft tone that set Mycroft's hairs on end.

Mycroft instantly stood inwardly wincing at following orders, walking over to the Master to stand before him not meeting his gaze, the Masters cold hand gripping his chin forcing him to meet his gaze, feeling the Masters mind forcing itself into his. He wanted to hide the thoughts that he had wanted to kill the Master but unsure how they were open to the Masters gaze.

The Master smirked grip becoming harder. "Wanted to kill me did we?" Asked the Master in a sweet tone fingers digging into broken flesh.

"You nearly did. That little stunt you pulled knocked me out with far too much power. If I weren't a Time-lord you would have killed me." Mycroft winced back looking down trying to look contrite, his heart rate rising…

"I know that you had no way of controlling it Mycroft. Don't worry. But you thought about killing your Master which was not a nice thought was it." Mycroft didn't so much as shake his head, as the Master shook it for him, the grip becoming almost unbearable but at least the Master wasn't in his mind anymore.

The Master let go of his face, reaching back and slapping him so hard that blood flew from the cuts on his face knocking him as far back into the room that he hit an opposite wall into one of his shelf's , his head and teeth feeling like they were rattling.

"You aren't in more pain because you decided against killing your Master. But your pet humans are going to find there water rations halved for the next month. I'll be sure to let them know why."

The Master stood up, summoned the guards in to take Lucy before limping out of the room so deep in thought that he forgot to even make an exit. The event of been knocked unconscious clearly having unsettled him.

Mycroft began to wonder just what it would take to get Lucy to betray the Master… Probably too much for him to even contemplate. But perhaps Sherlock would have an idea…If only he could learn to use the abilities being forced on him , he needed to speak to Sherlock and Needed to learn how to hide his thoughts.

Checking his mouth to see that no teeth were knocked out he walked to the bathroom trying to focus on contacting Sherlock. If they'd done it once they could do it again.

tbc