As a time traveller his sleep-rhythm hardly ever went along with the day-and-night circle of the places he found himself in. The Master was used to it and when he noticed that the sun was once again setting by the time he got up he simply accepted the fact and had breakfast.

Jack was still asleep, in his own room. He would not remember the events of last night – well, day, really – at least not consciously and not as long as the Maser didn't want him to. The Doctor was also asleep – or rather unconscious – in his bed where the Master had left him. He hadn't moved by the time the other Time Lord returned there and slipped under the covers with him. If he was honest he was still a little exhausted himself. Well, fucking the Doctor's mouth while Jack took him from behind had been totally worth it, but as his gaze felt on the marks Jack had left on the Doctor's skin he growled. It had been a nice joke on the human's expense but the Master wasn't really that much into sharing.

Maybe he'd gone too far this time, just a little. The Doctor was weak enough already – he had to be more careful. The Master had seen no need to be considerate of his bad state since once the alien spaceship reappeared everything would be fine and the Doctor would be back to health and blessed with at least three more regenerations, but the ship was taking its time. Jack had been confident it would come back but so far there was no sign of it. Maybe it was gone for good, in which case the Master had to be more gentle with the Doctor until he found another way.

But if all else failed he did have a way to keep the Doctor save until he figured something out. He just rather wouldn't use it.

Curling around the Doctor from behind the way he'd never do it if the Doctor was awake he nuzzled his nose in the other's hair and closed his eyes.

An hour later he woke again, slowly and thoroughly rested. The Doctor remained still on the bed, his breath shallow and uneven. Better let him sleep for the day.

The Master rolled onto his back and sat up, ready to leave the bed, but something held him back.

The Doctor was still facing the other way, still hadn't opened his eyes, but his long fingers were wrapped around the Master's wrist and though his grip wasn't strong it was impossible to shake him off. The Master couldn't help noticing the marks left by the belt and didn't try very hard.

"What is it?" he asked, a well calculated hint of impatience in his voice.

Now the Doctor sat up himself, looking at the Master through bloodshot eyes full of rage.

"How dare you?" he hissed, his voice rough. "Doing that to him!"

"Oh, come on, it's not like he didn't want to!" the Master groaned, rolling his eyes. "Besides, he won't remember, so don't act all morally supreme on me!"

"I am morally supreme!" the Doctor spat. "How could you do that? You have always been twisted, but that's taking it one step further than I thought you'd ever go." His grip around the Master's wrist tightened and desperation mingled with the rage in his eyes. "How can I ever leave you alone if you go and do things like this?"

"There is a simple answer to that question," the Master said, keeping his voice even. "Don't leave me."

"It's not like I have a choice!"

"Oh yes, you do!" Now the Master himself was getting aggravated, pulling the Doctor closer with hard, unforgiving hands. "You have always been a fighter! You've survived everything! I have survived the end of my regeneration cycle and so could you if you only tried!"

"So that's what this is about?" the Doctor asked through clenched teeth, disbelieve in his voice. "You think I'm just dying to annoy you? Like you, you mean?"

"Well, aren't you?" The Master was aware of sounding like a spoiled child but they had postponed this conversation far too long. "You could survive if you had the will."

"Sometimes will isn't enough!" the Doctor shouted back.

Now it was the Master who tightened his grip.

"There are ways to save you and if you'd wanted to you would have found them. But as things are I have found them for you."

"Why?"

It was a simple enough question and the Master hoped the Doctor didn't notice the second that passed before his answer.

"Because I'm bored, because you keep me occupied and because I want to win." It was true but he cold have said more (except he couldn't). "I won't let you die just to get back at me!"

And the Doctor sneered, actually sneered at him.

"What makes you think I'd want to die because of you?" he asked. "You aren't that important to me." And the Master punched him.

The Doctor's head was thrown back and he fell onto the bed where he stayed, looking unblinkingly at the ceiling.

"If you stay out of boredom I would recommend you to leave now," he said in a toneless voice. "Just get out. I'm not much entertainment at the moment, so leave me alone and find someone else to play with."

'You don't think I will?' the Master almost said. He didn't. For some reason he didn't. The Doctor sat up again and tried to get to his feet only to discover that his legs wouldn't carry him. He tried again, already panting hard with exhaustion.

"Stay in bed," the Master said. "Sleep a few hours."

"That's what I'm planning to do, thank you very much for your concern," the other man spat. "But I don't plan on lying on these soiled sheets any longer."

The Master looked at the bed, properly this time. They had, indeed, made quite a mess of it.

"The TARDIS will provide you with clean sheets," he shrugged.

"Not while I'm lying on them!" the Doctor pointed out. He finally got to his feet and would have collapsed one second later had the Master not caught him.

"Don't touch me!"

"What's going on?"

The Master looked up, annoyed, at Jack who had just appeared in the door, looking slightly confused and pretty pissed. He yanked the Master away from the Doctor, who in return fell back onto the bed once more.

"What have you done to him?"

"Oh, you should…" the Master stopped himself, straightened his clothes and started again. "It's hardly your business what we do in bed," he said with a growl.

While he helped the Doctor to sit up Jack stared at the bloodstains on the cover, at the Doctor's pale, drawn face, his bruised body and then at the Master. Before he could say anything, however, the Doctor gave his opinion.

"He's right, Bill," he said, all reason and maturity. "I appreciate your concern but this has nothing to do with you."

"Except for the part where you pounded the Doctor into the mattress until he passed out, of course," the Master added. The Doctor shot him a shocked and murderous look, but Jack didn't react in the least. He had heard the words, but as long as the Master's control over him remained things like that simply didn't register in his brain. After a second the Doctor got this and relaxed, a little.

Jack helped him when he tried to stand and the Doctor let him.

"You look terrible," the human pointed out. "Still sexy, but terrible. It would improve your looks greatly if you just stayed in bed and slept for a few hours. You can take mine, as this is a bit messy." So he'd noticed then, that genius!

But the Doctor shook his head.

"I want to take a shower," he mumbled. After a second Jack shrugged and lifted him effortlessly off the bed to carry him over to the bathroom. The Master snorted and left them to themselves.

-

Jack sat the Doctor down onto one of the plastic chairs the TARDIS had for some random reason placed in the large bathroom and quickly removed his own clothes while the almost pool-sized bathtub filled with water.

The Doctor hated being so weak and useless.

"Thank you, I can manage," he said pointedly but soon found out that he couldn't. Jack didn't even pay attention to him.

He turned the shower on as well before he slowly lowered the Doctor into the hot water. He found soap and a cloth and very carefully began to wash the Time Lord's abused body. After a while the Doctor dared to relax in the arms holding him from behind. He was exhausted, still angry at the Master, still miserable. The pain that filled about every part of his body made it hard to think clearly and the hot water that engulfed him eventually caused his mind to slip away further and further. He was half asleep when he finally realised that Jack's hands were roaming over his body in a way that had nothing to do with getting him clean.

"Bill?" he asked, somewhat groggily, and was only answered by a hand sliding between his legs. He flinched and pushed it away, managed to turn in Jack's arms so he was facing him. The look in the human's eyes was the same he'd seen hours before, the look of a person not even aware they weren't in control of their own actions.

The Doctor tried to get away but Jack pulled him back playfully and pressed a quick kiss onto his lips before pressing a finger into him, then another. The Doctor, still sore and torn from the last time, gave a hiss of pain and wished his head would stop spinning.

"Bill," he said firmly, cupping the time agents face in his hands and forcing him to too into his eyes. "Bill, stop it!"

It was no use – Jack didn't hear him, didn't get the meaning of his words, and the Doctor didn't dare going inside his head while he couldn't concentrate and the Master was already in there. He doubted, though, that his old friend had any idea what was going on right now.

The fingers disappeared, then a hand was wrapped around the Doctor's cock and a hot tongue ran over his nipple. Jack was trying to make this pleasurable for him but the Doctor was much too tense and in too much pain to appreciate the effort. But he pressed a kiss to the agents forehead and whispered the words "It's alright, it's alright" over and over again as he knew it wasn't Jack's fault, and when the human slid into him and slowly rocked into his body, under the spray of the still running shower, the Doctor only helplessly clung to him and bit his lips to stay silent. He felt sick.

Jack's strong hands kept him upright even after the last of his own strength hand left him. By the time Jack gently wrapped him into a towel and carried him back to a bed that was clean and smelled of gallifreyan spring the Doctor was barely aware of his surroundings anymore and Jack didn't have any conscious memory of what had just happened, except that he had helped the Doctor get clean and that he was very pissed at the Master.

The Doctor wasn't even aware he was whimpering quietly when Jack tucked him in. It had been a long time since it last hurt so much to breathe and his right heart sent waves of agony though his body every time it beat, which wasn't all that often. He vaguely remembered throwing up after getting out of the tub.

There was a constant noise in his head and only after a minute he understood that this was Jack's concerned voice, asking if there was anything he cold do to help him.

'Just don't hurt me again,' the Doctor thought, then hoped he hadn't said it aloud, then realised that Jack wouldn't register it anyway. Poor Jack. He wouldn't see Jack, the real Jack, the Jack that called himself Jack, ever again.

Gentle fingers wiped away his tears, then stroked his hair. Poor Jack. He shouldn't be here. They should never have met. He should leave, now, and never come back. And so should the Master.

The Doctor wanted them to go and was scared they would.

A warm, strong hand wrapped around his.

"There must be something I can do!" Jack said, desperately and with no reason to feel guilty. He knew nothing.

"Bedside table," the Doctor rasped. "Top drawer." The hand disappeared and in the darkness behind his eyelids he was all alone.

"This?" Jack's voice sounded nine seconds later and the Doctor nodded without opening his eyes.

"Left arm," he whispered. A moment later he once again felt hot human hands on his fevered skin, felt the prick of the needle and then the pain dulled, became bearable, just. Listening to Jack's soothing voice his thoughts drifted and fell apart. He didn't even notice the world fading away.

-

Sometimes the Master felt like the universe was making fun of him. This was one of those times.

He had just begun seriously considering looking elsewhere for help for the Doctor as the alien timeship stubbornly refused to show up when it did. Just for a second.

The image on the scanner flickered briefly into existence and was gone again. It seemed like the machine was having trouble getting a hold of this world. It probably was damaged in some way, the Master guessed. Still, the fact that it had tried to get back indicated that, whatever these aliens wanted here, they weren't done yet. The Master smiled to himself. Maybe there was still hope.

He wouldn't mind, though, if they hurried up a little.

After eating a pizza a la TARDIS he slowly made his way over to the room he had occupied for his work, somewhere deep within the ship. He had rifled through the storage rooms for spare parts and some exotic components he'd been lucky to find, and every now and then spend some hours working on the device he hoped he wouldn't have to use. It was more of a hobby.

The Doctor's room wasn't on the way but somehow the Master ended up there. Glancing through the open door he saw the Doctor flat on the bed, looking positively lifeless, and Jack sitting beside him, holding his hand. How sappy. The Master grimaced, decided to go on and was inside the room one second later to check the Doctors pulse and his temperature. Okay, definitely went too far last night. The Master considered moving him to the infirmary, then decided against it.

Jack glared daggers at him.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't touch him," he said icily when the Master laid his hand on the Doctor's chest to check which heart wasn't beating.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion."

"I don't remember needing your permission to speak!" Jack spat. "Look at him! You knew he was ill and still – what? Raped him? I can see you're worried and yet you seem to enjoy hurting him!" Cold rage burned in his eyes and had the Doctor not lain between them the Master was sure he would have tried to strangle him. The idea made him smile. He answered the human's words by looking into his eyes while tenderly taking the Doctor's limp hand and licking the marks the belt had left on his wrist.

Jack stared at him. But his voice was surprisingly clam when he said:

"I think he's dying."

"He's not!" the Master snapped. "He's going to be fine, so stop being stupid!"

The look Jack gave him was calculating and the Master hated him.

"What exactly is he to you?" the time agent wanted to know. There were a million possible answers to that but the Master only told Jack what he needed to know.

"He's mine," he said.

He let go of the hand, got up and turned to the human.

"Stay with him and make sure he's okay," he said in his best you-will-obey-me voice. "Tell me if he gets worse.

And don't touch him," he added as an afterthought. Jack didn't react but the Master knew he had gotten the order. This species was so ridiculously easy to control. Too bad it had never worked with Jack's older self – something to do with technically being dead.

Or maybe he had just lost his brain somewhere along the way. With him you never knew.

The Master left the room without looking back.

-

Bill stayed with the Doctor for hours and hours and the alien didn't move. The human got hungry but decided to stay and watch over this man's sleep. He didn't know if it was the painkiller he'd given the Doctor earlier that had knocked him out or if he'd simply slipped into unconsciousness on his own. Whatever Harry had done to him, it had been too much for him.

Eventually Bill dozed off listening to the other's shallow breathing.

When he woke up the Doctor was awake as well, still weak but clearly annoyed by it and in a kind of bossy mode. Allowing no protest he sent Bill away to fetch some food but by the time the agent returned he was already asleep again, so Bill ate it on his own.

It took the Doctor two days to gather enough strength to stand on his own, but as soon as he could he was gone from his room and Bill didn't see him for another day. He avoided Harry as best he could and quickly got bored.

When he saw the Doctor again the man was sitting on the floor of a storage room, using his sonic screwdriver to build a small, chaotic looking device with a lot of blinking lights. He thanked Bill for his help and then asked him to leave. Not just the room but the TARDIS. Stop getting involved in things that were no concern of his.

He was quite rude about it.

Bill refused.

The Doctor wanted to know why he stayed and Bill couldn't answer. 'There's still a possibility of you being evil' didn't sound right and he hadn't thought of that for ages. He'd stayed here for far too long.

"Why do you stay here?" Bill wanted to know.

"It's my ship," the Doctor pointed out.

"Okay, why don't you kick him out?"

The Doctor didn't answer for a long time. He didn't look at Bill.

Finally he said:

"I need to know he's alive."

Okay, that didn't make much sense. But Bill got an impression that the Doctor would rather not continue this conversation.

The words 'Do you love him?' remained unsaid.

"There is no reason for you to stay," the Doctor continued, his voice somewhat hard. "In fact, there are a lot reasons for you to go. One of them being me asking you to. My ship and all."

When Bill said he didn't trust Harry not to hurt him the Doctor snapped at him to stop treating him like a child.

Bill decided to leave him alone for the moment.

Altogether the Doctor's state hadn't improved much. Bill was acutely aware that he wouldn't live for much longer. He wondered why that thought hurt so much. He'd lost many friends in his life and this one he hardly even knew.

It still felt like failing.

He thought of Harry and his desperate denial and found he couldn't hate him quite so much for it.

But still enough to 'accidentally' trip and spill coffee over his legs the next time he met him in the kitchen.

-tbc

November 4, 2007