Part Sixteen – The Dream Lord

Soundtrack:

"Bitter Victory" - Ashes of War by Immediate

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: No excuses for how long this has taken me to post. None. The whole thing still feels messy to me, but I have got to get something posted so this story can move oooon.]

~The Shattered Future~

It was getting harder to breathe. Viera coughed weakly against the dust that was tickling her throat then quietly groaned. She hurt, but her head was too foggy to pinpoint what was wrong until she managed to force her eyes open and look around.

The building fell on me. Right. There was debris pinning her lower body to the ground. Viera tried just once to pull herself out from under it. Pain surged through her, and she spent the next few minutes struggling to breathe and trying not to black out.

"Doctor?" she tried breathlessly. She tried to be louder the second time, but her diaphragm wasn't working well. "Doctor?" Oh, please let him have made it out. Let him have dodged some other way. Let him be all right, she prayed, swallowing back tears.

Then there were footsteps, shuffling and sliding over debris. She couldn't twist around enough to see who was coming but hope swelled.

"Doctor?"

"Wrong Time Lord," came the Master's derisive tones, dashing her hopes as quickly as they'd risen. He strolled slowly into her view then crouched down beside her. He studied her with a detached sort of air, less delighted in her condition than she'd expected. Perhaps she simply wasn't important enough for him to be gleeful over her impending demise. "You're dying."

"I hadn't noticed," she said quietly, trying not to react. Part of her was still hoping that somehow she'd survive, that it wasn't as bad as it looked, that Saxon was lying. But even if he was, she was trapped. Helpless. Her weapon had fallen to one side, well out of her reach. He could kill her whenever he pleased.

"I dreamed of dying," Viera said, the words weak and breathless though she was strangely calm. Something cold slid down her temples and into her hair. Tears. Shock, perhaps, as she didn't feel sad or scared. She felt… weary. Tired of a world full of war, of the long, bloody fight against someone she had helped save. That made it her fault as much as the Doctor's, though she'd never been brave enough to point that out to Amy. "Twice. I keep… I keep dying. Was that you- who made us dream?" Perhaps it wasn't after all; she could see surprise in his eyes.

"It was always going to end here," he said, covering his confusion with smugness.

"On Braxton Street?"

Her attempt at humor made him sneer. "Dead. Traveling with your precious Doctor- You've no idea how many pets have come and gone before you. And all of them are gone. He was always going to get you killed."

"He was always worth it," she said without hesitation. Seeing the universe… all those worlds, all those people…" She trailed off, looking into the eyes of the last being she'd ever expected to keep her company while death came. Saxon. The Master. The only other Time Lord left. She should have been furious at him- hated him even- but right at that moment what she felt most was disappointed. "You could have been so much more than this."

Saxon blinked than laughed at her.

"Oh, please. I know it's hard for you, having been born human, but do try not to be a complete idiot. I rule the whole world! I have an army! Soon enough I'll rule whole universes!" the Master exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

"And you think that's going to make you happy? Maybe I'm-" Viera faltered, flinching as she breathed too deeply and fresh pain shot through her. "Maybe I'm not the idiot here."

He snarled at her then and grabbed the front of her shirt, yanking her a couple inches of the ground. The jarring movement made her whimper, but the angle made breathing a little easier.

"You dare-"

But she was dying. If she didn't dare then, she would lose her chance.

"I wish you had stayed with us in the TARDIS," she said.

"Running around with you, having trivial little adventures, saving insignificant worms. Why would I ever choose a life like that when I could have all of this? I'll soon have the whole universe on their knees," he declared. He sounded triumphant and mad, just as he had when she first met him, when he'd nearly destroyed the world the last time. Confident and gleeful and yet…

"But why? To what purpose?" she asked.

"To rule! To control! Because I can!"

She didn't understand that at all. "Alone at the top of the food chain is still alone."

"Alone suits me fine. People are disposable. Replaceable. You're nothing. Less than nothing. A waste of time."

"Yet you're still here," she whispered. Defiance and confusion flickered through his eyes. She knew he was likely to leave just to spite her, but it wouldn't matter much longer. She could feel herself fading, just like in her dreams. "It's not too late. Not for you. You know he'd still… help you." They both knew who 'he' was. Viera closed her eyes and silently gave up the hope that she'd see the Doctor again before she died. She felt an unexpected surge of gratitude that Saxon was there, that she wasn't dying alone. "You could choose… a different… path..."

"Hey. You. I'm not done talking to you," Saxon snapped, shaking her again. It didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. Everything went quiet and calm and dark inside her, then Viera breathed her last, leaving the Master alone despite his demands that she wake.

Some things even you can't control.

"Hey!" The Master gave up when it was clear that the woman was already gone. He dropped her limp body with an expression of disgruntled disgust and stood. "Stupid, fragile human. You don't know anything," he said, glaring down at her.

"You stupid!"

"Amy-"

"Idiotic!"

"Will you just-"

"Moron!" Amy's voice split the air, heedless of the very real danger of drawing unwanted attention. Rory's efforts to placate her were useless as they crawled out from under the small section of stable building that had sheltered them from the falling debris. Amy was so beyond furious that she was struggling to even spit out her insults.

"-listen a minute? And be careful! That shot might have just grazed you but-" Rory tried to get a look at her injured side but she made it rather difficult to do so when she grabbed the front of his shirt and shoved him back against a chunk of debris. He flinched in the face of her rage.

"Careful?! Careful?! You crack-brained, half-witted- You jumped off a cliff and you're telling me to be careful?!"

"I was trying to keep you safe!"

"Who asked you to?!" Amy shouted back. Rory broke off protesting when she grabbed him again, half expecting her to punch him outright, she looked so mad. He was caught completely flat-footed when her mouth slammed into his instead and she poured all that fury into a kiss that robbed him of all ability to speak. When she finally pulled away, he was left gasping and bewildered. Just when Rory had begun to recover from his surprise enough to put his arms around her, she shoved him away again, still furious. "Don't you ever do that again! Don't you dare!"

Rory faltered at the sight of tears on her face but drew himself up, determined. "I can't promise-"

"I love you, moron! You're not allowed to do stupid things like dying on me!" she snapped. Her face flushed when he gaped at her, but she lifted her chin and refused to take it back despite the way her heart was racing. It was stupid to panic over three little words when she had almost just lost him. Nothing compared to that.

"You… You love me?" Rory echoed, clearly forgetting that they were in the middle of an argument. Amy scowled at him a moment longer before the startled, adoring wonder on his face became too much for her. She subsided after thumping his arm with her fist.

"Of course I do. Were you even listening- Oh, just shut up," Amy said with a huff. She cut off any further reply he might have had with another kiss. That obviously didn't do anything to dampen Rory's joy, so Amy cleared her throat and took a step back before he could put his arms around her again. She straightened her rubble-dusted clothes and flatly refused to look at his sappy expression any longer. "I'm still mad at you. But we have other things to worry about right now. Like where are the others?"

"Viera!" The Doctor picked his way over the rubble, calling for the companions from which it had separated him without any acknowledgment that his voice could just as easily summon the enemy. "Amy! Rory!"

But they weren't the ones who answered.

"You're too late."

The Doctor nearly tripped over the rubble as his head whipped around towards the voice. His gaze landed first on the Master standing alone in the street, and he felt a flicker of irritation. Then he realized that the other Time Lord was standing over a person half-buried in brick and mortar and the horror swept away everything else. He ignored Saxon completely as he scrambled to Viera's side and searched desperately for a pulse at her wrist, at her throat, for some sign of breath or life or anything that give the lie to what he already knew to be true. She was gone.

"No," he breathed, denial and pleading and hopelessness churning inside him.

"Like you didn't see this coming," the Master sneered. "I doubt your other pets had any better luck. They're just better buried under the rubble. You've lost them all. Again. But then, that is what you do, isn't it? I'm surprised these lasted this long, really. I've been trying to get rid them for ages. It turns out, all it took was for you to come back into their lives."

It was too much. Listening to him gloat over Viera's death, over the Ponds', after everything- it sparked so fierce an anger inside the Doctor that he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The weapon that had been just out of Viera's reach was suddenly in his hand. The startled expression on the Master's face lasted only a moment before a challenging, sharp-edged glee took its place.

"Oh ho ho. Now we see your true colors," he chuckled with vicious satisfaction. Saxon threw out his arms to give the Doctor a better target even as he mocked him. "Go on then, do it! Let's see how much she mattered to you. Never mind that you left her here with all the rest. Never mind that you let her die alone again! Obviously part of you knows they aren't worth it, the humans."

"Shut up," the Doctor said in a low, rasping voice that was barely recognizable. Perhaps it was his tone, or perhaps it was the wild, churning darkness in his eyes, but something gave the Master pause. If only for a moment.

"It was always going to end like this. They all die. Or leave. Or betray you," he said. A slow, cruel grin crept across his face. "Though I suppose sometimes you betray them first. Isn't that what you did, abandoning them to this world- to my world- like unwanted toys? Beginning to bore you, were they? I suppose they always do. I can't blame you there; humans are such worthless creatures. Can you imagine the audacity of one of them fancying herself in love with you? I mean really, the gall-"

"You shut up! You don't know anything! She was worth a thousand of you!" the Doctor shouted, surging to his feet. His finger tightened around the trigger of his gun as he took a threatening step forward. There was a part of him lost in the grief and rage that wanted nothing more than to pull it and rid the universe of the Master's malice once and for all. Anything to make him stop taunting. Anything to wipe away the image of him standing over Viera's body. There was no one to stop him. For one brief instant he wondered whether the Master was right about his 'true colors'. For once brief instant he just didn't care. But his foot nudged against the still form of his fallen companion and the blind rage wavered. His finger loosened from around the trigger and the barrel of the gun drooped.

"Then where were you?" the Master asked, the amusement suddenly absent from his hard voice. "If she was worth so much, why didn't you save her?"

The Doctor crumpled, falling to his knees beside Viera, headless of where the gun fell as shame and grief flooded through him again. Without the rage to distract him, there was nothing else. Worse still, he had no answer. He should have been there. He should have saved her. Why couldn't he have saved her?

The Master picked up the discarded gun and pointed it calmly at the Doctor. A smug grin twisted his expression.

"I win," he said, his finger tightening around the trigger. And he had won in every way that mattered. The Doctor was defeated. Broken. He was on his knees, bowed over his dead pet with shoulders that shook though he was silent. His need for his human pets was his undoing as it was always fated. With the Doctor's defeat, there was no one left who had any legitimate chance of derailing the Master's plans for conquering the universe.

So why did the victory feel so much... less than he'd always imagined?

He was having an off day, that was all. And really, it hadn't exactly been him who defeated the Doctor. Of course that was it. He had wanted to win by outwitting the sentimental fool. The crumbling building had stolen his victory. That was why he felt dissatisfied with the result.

Having reassured himself that he was not going the least bit soft or sentimental himself, the Master gave a grumbling sigh and let the gun fall to one side. He scowled at the Doctor's hunched shoulders for a few minutes more. The Doctor always found a way to ruin his fun one way or another.

"She said this keeps happening. Your pet," he finally said.

The Doctor flinched. "I keep seeing her die, and there's nothing I can do about it. There's never anything I can do," he said hoarsely. The Master rolled his eyes, impatient.

"Don't be such a martyr. She said she'd dreamed about dying. Something about shared dreams? I wasn't really listening, but unless you think she somehow gained foresight in your travels… there might be more going on here," said Saxon. His expression remained bland as the Doctor finally lifted his head, hesitant hope sparking in his brown eyes.

"Shared dreams… You think we're still dreaming? That this world isn't real?"

The Master grimaced. "As much as I prefer this world to the others, you can't tell me the thought hadn't occurred to you."

The idea had been there at the back of his mind, but the grief had been louder, overwhelming everything. And it felt all too real. His memory of the others was fuzzy and faded as dreams should be, but... he did remember thinking they felt real too. Any chance at all was worth grasping at then.

"Of course, it's a hell of a chance to take if it's not a dream," the Master continued, traces of a familiar smirk tugging at his mouth. "You know what woke us from the others. Are you really willing to risk that?"

Some risk. Viera was gone. Amy & Rory too, most likely. What did he have left to lose? The Master must have read the answer in the Doctor's expression because a reckless grin flickered across his face.

"All right then. It just so happens that I have enough munitions to take out a city block. Or what's left of it," the Master said, digging a fist-sized, spherical device out of one of his pockets.

"You've been carrying around a Sontaran grenade in your pocket?" the Doctor asked, recovered enough from his grief to at least sound appalled by that. "Do you know how unstable those things are?"

The Master scoffed and knelt down to pull the energy pack from the weapon they had both aimed at each other in turn. It was the work of barely a minute to wire it to the grenade.

"Might as well make sure we're thorough if we're going to do this," he said with satisfaction. The Doctor eyed him and the contraption with a degree of wariness, but he didn't protest. "Are you sure about this?" Saxon asked, tossing the device up in the air and catching it, adrenaline already buzzing in his veins and speeding up his hearts until they pounded in time with the four beats that remained a faded echo at the back of his mind.

The Doctor's gaze dropped to the dead woman at his feet, anguish and hope warring in his eyes until there was only determination left.

"Do it," he said, lifting his gaze to meet the Master's. The two Time Lords shared a brief, tight-lipped smile, then the Master flicked the safety off the grenade.