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Steady as the Beating Drum
Chapter 11: It had to be Donna
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"Well I hate to say I told you so-
"-But I told you so," the Master gloated. "Don't worry, it matters so little when you get out of this loop that I won't even bother trying to stop you. But it is nice to know that you fell for one of the most classic blunders."
"Start any land wars in Asia lately?" Martha snapped at the Doctor, who rolled his eyes. Honestly. Sometimes his head was so chock full of trans-millennial pop cultural nonsense that it was a wonder that there was room enough for the mechanics of poly-dimensional travel!
"Oh come on! It's no fun if neither of you ask me to elaborate."
"What do you mean 'it doesn't matter'?" the Doctor indulged.
"Because it's all already happened."
"Good job I have a time machine and you telling me something, does not make it fixed!"
"No, but trust me when I say that I've done my best. You'll let me know if it was good enough." His self-assured smirk made Martha nervous. What could he have done to Donna in a matter of days? How long had they been in the loop really?
"What do you want, Master? Whatever it is, you don't have to involve Donna or anybody else. I can help you."
"This you is much less sincere than the last; not sure I like you all tall, grey and stern."
"Tell me what I can do." As if the answer had ever been that simple.
"There's nothing I want from you Doctor, not even your pain. Like I said: I need Donna, and I have her. Problem solved."
A dark look overtook the Master's features, the vaguely familiar lines of his face morphed into an ugly smirk, he looked up from under hooded, dead eyes and pierced him with an accusatory glare. "Any minute now," he whispered.
"What is it?" Donna whispered with awe in her voice.
"It's- well- I haven't quite named it yet," the Master rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "The long of it is very dull and full of words you definitely will not understand, the short of it is that it makes your thoughts reality."
Donna's brow knit together in her attempt to process the meaning of this. "Okay, and you want me to bring back Gallifrey by… thinking about it?"
"Well, yes."
"But I've never even seen it!"
"What's that go to do with anything?"
She sighed, "Well, you big moron, how am I supposed to think about a place I've never seen or been to. Or even heard anything about!"
"Well, they wore very strange shoulder hats- or are they technically necklaces? -and there were two suns."
"Why can't you do it?" she demanded, skeptical of his true motives. "What aren't you telling me?" worry chewed at her heart. What was wrong with the Doctor?
"I can't," he sighed, slumping his shoulders for effect.
"Well why not?"
"You see, my brains a little full... at the moment."
"Sorry?"
He hadn't really expected her to ask this many questions. He sort of missed the days when the Doctor's companions followed him without question. That would have made this easier.
"Something happened and I regenerated."
The questioning look on her face indicated that this had no meaning for her. "Remember when I said I was very very old? Well it's because I regenerate. If I die, my body will regrow itself into a whole new person. I change." She seemed to understand this, though she seemed very dumbstruck. He went on. "Something went wrong and when I regenerated I wasn't just one person."
"Like you had two heads or something? Or like that special in the Sun about conjoined twins?"
"No, not like that," the Master rolled his eyes. "It wasn't just me in my head anymore… I was a lot of different people at once. Think about what it would be like if your own head got crowded with a bunch of voices that weren't yours and you no longer had complete control of your actions."
Donna did think about it. The strange thing was that she didn't have to imagine what that would be like. She felt that way every day. She knew things she should have no way of knowing, she dreamed things that made little sense. Donna nodded.
"I created this machine so that I could sort ooooof," he smacked his lips, "take them out of my head and make them real."
"Did it work?" she gasped.
"Well, you've met Maisie and Jane haven't you?"
"Oh, look at that. Time for me to pop off." The Master had no watch to look at, but since when did a Time Lord need that to time an exit? "I'll see you in a few weeks Doctor!" he sort of twiddled his fingers in a gesture of goodbye and reached into his jacket pocket. When the Doctor and Martha saw the vortex manipulator they both lunged.
But it was too late. The Master had disappeared.
They were left lying in a heap where he used to be, surrounded by cloudy-eyed men and women in uniforms standing up straight and stiffly. They gave the pair no notice with their puppet-master gone.
"How can he do that?" grunted Martha, pushing herself up onto her knees. "I thought if you leave the loop you go out of sync."
"You and I would," the Doctor explained. "But the Master created the loop, only he knows exactly how time was designed to pass inside it."
"And there's no way for us to figure it out?"
"No, there is," the Doctor pursed his lips in a grim, wrinkled line. "Doesn't matter much if we're too late." He drew his knees to his chest and bit his thumb, sinking deep into thought. He made a ridiculous picture; long skinny limbs jutting out at oddly bent angles, curled in tight as if in defense.
Martha sighed and found her feet. She offered her friend her hand and tried to be sympathetic to his maudlin tendencies. "Come on Doctor, it'll be alright. If you think Donna's not going to throw a wrench in his plans then you must be going senile. We should hurry so we can see the show. Don't wanna miss Donna Noble chewing him up and spitting him out, do we?"
His bony fingers grasped her long slender ones. She heaved him to his feet. "No," he supposed. "Can't have that."
"What the hell do you mean Maisie and Jane?!" Donna shrieked, aghast. "You mean they're not…real?"
"No no, they are! That's the point," the Master help up his hands in a placating gesture. "You see, this machine," he patted the chrome siding fondly. "Makes the imagination real. They were fully formed in my mind, they're as real as anything now that I've made them."
"You had people running around in your head!?"
"Yes Donna," the Master rolled his eyes, growing impatient. "And now they're not."
"So that thing makes stuff in your head real. And you want to use it to make Gallifrey real again." He nodded a confirmation. "So why can't you do it? I don't know anything about Gallifrey? How am I supposed to imagine it?"
"Like I said," the Master turned his nose up proudly, "My mind's a little too full to focus on it enough. I can implant the memories in your mind so you can do it. Easy!"
"Well focus really isn't my strong suit lately either." Donna hugged herself and rolled her eyes. It was all happening so fast; the Doctor coming back, retrieving her memories, and instantly on another adventure! They didn't even get to talk about anything, not really. He was doing what he always did: skirting the issue by distracting them with something new and exciting. He'd kissed her- like he'd meant it. Were they really not going to talk about that either?
Well, perhaps there were more pertinent issues at present than Donna's strained libido and confusing feelings. She felt a little shame at even giving credit to the thought.
Gallifrey was his home. He'd sacrificed it for the universe and even still, she knew he would do anything to bring it back. She couldn't screw this up for him.
"Why does it have to be me?" she asked, "Can't you just put it in anyone's head? I'm sure Martha would help, or one of your recent companions? What's so special about me?"
The Master had prepared for this question; Maisie had had more time to sift through Donna's memories, but he'd had the time to really mull over the implications. The Doctor marveled at this strange silly human, in a way that he could never really understand. But he could replicate it, so who really cared?
"Donna Noble, you are brilliant. It had to be you. Big mind like that, you create entire universes around you, whole parallel worlds! Remember the library? Small minds live small lives. Only you can make it real. I know you can do this. I need you to do this." He gripped her shoulders with long skinny fingers and stared deep into her eyes. The hazel of his irises gleamed in the fluorescent light. He leaned down until their noses were a hairsbreadth apart. "Please," he begged, searching her face.
She didn't think. Of course she didn't have to. Here was her best friend begging for her help, asking her for greatness. If greatness was what he needed then she could fake it, easy. Anything to take his pain away.
"Okay, I'll do it."
"What now Doctor?" asked Martha, as she led him up the flights of stairs.
He puffed behind her, "You're sure you want to stay with me now that the Master's involved?"
"What sort of daft nonsense of that, of course I do." At the next landing she whipped around and pointed a finger in his face. "I don't know what your deal is but we are friend. That doesn't stop because I haven't seen you in-"
"About 800 years."
"800 years, really?" She shook her head, and brought herself back on track. "It doesn't matter. I'm with you Doctor." She took his hand and grasped it tight. When you run with the Doctor you learn that no one needs hope, promises and protection more than he.