Revery of Madness Chapter 18: II - Searching for patterns, a doctor who fanfic

It hurt. It was pain in its rawest form, pain he had never before felt in his life and never would again. Time was burning in his mind, drilling into his soul and his very being. He flinched, somehow still aware of his surroundings and the watching Time Lords. He wouldn't falter, wouldn't run.

So he stood, and he watched.

And he heard it.

He shut his eyes to listen, to determine what it was, but it wasn't necessary. The sound washed over him in a sudden, all consuming wave, swallowed him hole and let him scream in painful agony.

Drumming.

It was the sound of drums, tearing him apart from the inside, repeating, repeating, repeating, repeating. Four times. Always four times.

Fingers were on his small shoulders, on his hands, ripping them away from his tears smeared face. Gravel was digging into his knees. He glared into the curious watching faces of robed figures, unable to remember their names or purposes. They dragged him to his feet, said something.

"I think that one broke."

Perplex he blinked, realizing he could hear the voice clearly, despite the drumming in his head. The thought was like an anchor, a lifeline he clung to.

And the noise faded.

For a moment he thought it was gone completely, but when he closed his eyes and listened, it was still there, lingering in the back of his head, waiting, lurking, like a predator.

The Time Lords pushed him away from the Untempered Schism. For another long moment he refused to move, an unexplainable urge almost forcing him to look back. To take just another peek inside.

There had been so much power!

It could all be his if he only let it happen.

But the adults already pushed him away, dragged and shoved him towards the one Time Lord that would decide his fate. He was clad in the richest red robes, his posture showing absolute power and control. And contempt.

"Ah," Rassilon made and clicked his tongue with a disgusted look on his face. "The little spawn of Lord Oakdown. It's not a surprise you failed the trial, womb-born." He spat out the last word as if it were a poison. Then a gloating grin spread on his lips. "Maybe your father will finally get rid of you now."

"He screamed something about drums in his head, Sir," one of the Time Lords said.

They wouldn't let him visit the academy. He knew it. They would doom him to be an outcast, to live among the common people. A mere peasant, instead of a mighty Time Lord.

If he would survive his father's wrath.

"Bring him home!" Rassilon boomed with a smile. "We won't taint our pupils with this mad stain."

"I'm not mad!" Anger rushed through his veins like hot acid, making his eyes spark with their blue fire. "And I'm not a stain! I'm better than all of you!"

Silence spread among the adults, Rassilon cast a cold gaze at the boy in front of him, then he stepped closer, towered above the child with nothing but hatred in his eyes.

"You dare to-"

"There's no drumming!" the boy continued hastily before anyone would be able to shut him up. "It was only... my heartbeat that I heard."

His small body was shaking, from anger, from fear. He tried to get it under control, succeeded even. But he was still so, so afraid. Rassilon spoke forth again, his voice almost a whisper and like a snarl at the same time.

"Then tell me... what is it the Vortex gave to you if not madness?"

The shaking stopped. The drums hammered in the back of his mind, calling him, tempting, screeching, roaring, promising. Promising... power. He could feel it, the strength they were giving him. The mastering of minds, the command over thoughts and psyche.

"Control," the boy whispered back, never averting his gaze.

Rassilon's laugh echoed in his head, almost overshadowing the drumming. He heard the laugh all his way back to his father's mansion, heard it throughout the night when the beats of four wouldn't let him sleep, heard it long after he had entered the academy even.

One day he would make it stop.

oOo~-̶̰͕͑̐ ̵̡͔̕~̷̱̤̖̆͋͘ ̴͍̈́̂̽.̴̯̦̹͛ ̶͍̎͌#̷̡̳̟͆ ̷̲̇̋̑-̸̧͙͂ ̶͕̜̆̐̿~̵̡̛̳͖͂̃ ̵̣̊̓̄.̷͇̺́̏ ̷̞̑͐#̶̢͈̦͌ ̴̰̃̐͠-̸̝́ ̵̛̱͉~̸̫̈̎ ̴̙̇̿̄.̵̧͙̻̓͛̓ ̵̦̠̈́̿#̵̳͎̯̀̑ ̷͓̩̞̉̑͑-̴̮̞̕ ̸̢̭̪̊~̷͔͇̞̈́͝ ̵̙̬̓.̶̰̘̏͘ ̶̯̝͐̿͛#̷̪̆́ ̶̼̎̾͋-̸̨́ ̴͙̹̪͆͊~̵͓̓̔͐ ̶̛͎͍̗.̷̀̎ͅ ̴̳̬͆͝#̵͉̻̭̓̑ ̶͈̗̩̂̈́-̷̢̛̙͆͐ ̶̙̐~̶̬͓̎̈ ̵͓̄.̶̹̪̆͝͝ͅ ̵̥̑̀̈́#̵̭͚͂̔ ̷̤͔̈́͜-̷̥̗̈ ̵̝̀͆͘~̶̓̿͜ ̸̺̣̈́.̴̜͗̅ ̴̿͜#̷͈͉̋ͅ ̴̡̠̒̾-̵̡̯̤̒̕ ̸̺͋͂~̸̦̗͚̾̕ ̸̭̝͋.̸̢͖̻̅̇͝ ̴̨̬͗#̵̺͍̮̂ ̴͖̫̈́ͅ~oOo

Roka blinked her tired eyes open, her gaze wandering into the darkness of the room. She remembered where they were, stuck on earth. She remembered the past evening and how much fun it had been, although now her head hurt badly. Then she remembered the dream and finally realized what was wrong with it.

Their connection was gone.

So why had she seen another of the Master's memories? And she was pretty sure it had been one, since the whole scene was completely unfamiliar to her. It must have been his initiation, the moment the drums had started to torment his mind, only to do so for the rest of his life. Even now, when they actually should be gone, but somehow weren't.

Roka sighed and snuggled into the Master's arms, slipping under his blanket to get even a little closer. He lay still, breathing regularly. She hoped the drums would let him rest, since he had told they were haunting him in his sleep.

"No, they're quiet," he mumbled sleepily, without opening his eyes. Only his arms snaked around her and pulled her flush against him.

"I... didn't say that out loud," Roka uttered back, completely perplexed.

The Master stiffened immediately, his arms squeezing her for a second.

"What?" Now his voice sounded wide awake.

"You... just answered something I only thought. And I think I dreamed another memory of yours, before. But how? I thought..."

He stopped squeezing her and instead slid to her head to cradle it in his palms, thumbs already on her temples, but he hesitated to access her mind. They lay there like this for a moment, staring into each other's eyes as if anyone would have an answer. Or maybe just to be sure they were still together. Roka shuffled a little closer, wanted to rest her head against his, wanted to simply snuggle up a bit more.

At last they lay chest to chest, feet entangled a little. The Master inched his head forward, captured her lips gently and slowly, waiting for her response that came without hesitation. He then took her hands and held them up to his own head, near his temples. Roka retreated and looked at him, puzzled. Her hands twitched back, but the Master held them in place.

"You can initiate that, too, you know," he muttered against her lips.

"Bu... but I'm only human," she protested meekly. "We're barely psychic and I'm untrained and..."

"Please," he breathed softly. "Try."

"Phew... okay."

Carefully she curled her fingers, lightly pushed her thumbs against his temples as he usually did with her. Somehow she awaited to feel something, a spark, or a sting maybe. But there was just nothing. She breathed out a disappointed sigh, but still tried to focus her mind on his, on her own, imagined how her consciousness flew from her head through her veins, into her hands and fingers and from there into his mind.

Something clicked. As if what she did was simply and utterly right. A part of her connected with a part of him, got woven together like two strands of light, swirling around the other, gently touching, caressing. She sighed again, this time because it felt so amazing, although in ways she couldn't even begin to describe. Her lips found his again and each touch was amplified a thousand times, igniting a spark inside her body, but more so in her mind, that urged her to continue, to deepen the connection more. It was like being sucked into a tornado of emotions and memories and impressions and thoughts, intermingling with her own, making it impossible for her to discern what belonged to whom.

A tender warmth engulfed her mind eventually, or maybe it had only been a second. The Master caught her gently, shielded her from the flood of impressions and brought her back to herself, where she could at least remember that she was a separate being. Only then could she feel his thumbs on her own temples, his chest rising and falling rapidly, hearts hammering fast against his ribs.

"That feels amazing," she breathed out shakily.

She felt a rush of raw happiness in her chest, not stemming from herself. He smiled softly.

"It does. I almost feared it would be different for you."

A sudden, deep longing spread in her, to dive right back in, to explore the depths of his being, getting lost in his energy, being consumed by the swirl of emotions and images, becoming one with it. But he wouldn't let her, kept them both far enough apart. The question slipped into her consciousness why he had insisted on her starting it, but it dawned fast on her.

"This is important to you, isn't it?"

He hummed confirming.

Another flush of happiness rushed through her veins, making her smile. "It's not... a thing you do often, right?"

"It has the same significance as us lying here so snuggled up," he calmly explained, brushing her lips. "Or like a deep kiss you just can't stop. A connection, a merging of two separate entities."

She huffed. "I see. But... it's different."

"Than what?"

"Uh..." Roka flushed slightly. "You know..."

He smirked amusedly at her, his next words only leaving him to tease her even further. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"As if!"

The Master chuckled and kissed her nose, his lips splitting to a full grin. "Nope. You have to tell me."

"You know what I mean."

"What?"

"Sex."

There was silence and she flushed a deep red during the moment. A slight chuckle slowly build up in the Master's chest, rising to a full snickering as he drew her closer. Roka wanted to punch him, but wasn't able to move in any significant way.

"'M glad you're having fun," she grumbled.

"Och, come on," he mocked, "you behave as if you'd never done it."

"Shuddup."

He only continued to chuckle at her and it was annoyingly contagious, so she tried to kick him a little, without success. Instead the Master grabbed her around the torso and dragged her on top of him, until she lay with her full length on his chest. Roka only wore some underwear and a T-Shirt, so she distinctly felt his body through the cloth, reminding her of how strong he was, and still so tender with her at the same time. Right now he obviously had himself under control, only wanting to tease her, judging by the smug and amused look on his face.

"What's there to be embarrassed about?" He stroked a finger along her cheek.

"I... don't know."

"Then don't be." He bent his torso up to peck a kiss on her lips.

Roka huffed. "Why aren't you?" she mumbled, folding her arms on him to rest her chin on them. "Isn't it proscribed by Time Lords?"

"Mhm..." The smirk left his lips and his face became thoughtful. "Because they don't want... people like me to happen. Womb-borns. Looms are much more valuable, because they are pure and... programmed."

She knew a little about Looms and all that. About how most Time Lords were sterile and that they created new people in chambers, with a carefully crafted set of DNA. On earth it would be frowned upon, but for them it was the exact opposite. It was rare for two fertile Time Lords to even find together, let alone having them even be interested in any physical contact. Considering all of that it was almost an impossibility for him to even exist.

"Well," she mumbled and smiled, "I'm glad you happened."

The subtle surprise on his face was honest, his eyes suddenly adapting a look of such fondness towards her it made her heart ache. If people had been nice to him, if anyone had ever given him some love and compassion, would he still be the same today?

His arms closed around her middle and he rolled them both to the side, bringing their faces close together, his eyes boring into hers as if he wanted to explore her very soul through them.

"It's not the same," he answered her question from before. "Sharing minds goes so much... deeper."

"It certainly felt that way, yes." Roka closed her eyes, relishing his presence for a moment, before she finally asked, "Why did I see another of your memories? Why did you answer a question I only thought?"

When she opened her lids she met a thoughtful look. "I don't know," the Master admitted. "The connection is gone, completely. It... could be..." His brows knitted together and something crossed his gaze Roka couldn't name. Was it anger? Concern?

"Don't be so secretive again," she sighed.

"I'm not," he deflected almost automatically, then sighed. "It's only a possibility, but I don't know how it could have happened. And if... then it should by no means ever be completed. It won't. Not unwillingly, not unconsciously."

Roka huffed. "Just tell me if it gets important. Or dangerous. Or both. I'm part of it, too, you know? I have the right to be informed."

The Master smiled. "It's nothing you should be worried about. And I promise, if it ever gets a problem, I will tell you everything."

"Really?"

"Yes." He smiled softly, playing with her hair, his other hand resting on her waist. "Speaking of it. What memory did you see, anyway?"

To say it felt uncanny to go shopping with the Master was the understatement of her entire life.

Sure, they had been skimming through alien markets and stores from time to time, to get special supplies, tools or other stuff to repair his TARDIS, or simply to steal random stuff for the fun of it. But now they were actually buying necessary things for their everyday life. Starting from clothes to groceries and a few technical instruments of that time. A laptop, two smartphones, and Roka had insisted on getting them a PS4, although the Master refused to even go near that thing, remembering the last few games she had made him play with the widest - and meanest - grin on her face.

They ordered a guy to bring all the stuff home for them, so they wouldn't have to carry it around. As evening drew closer, Roka started to feel immensely tired. A week of running away from aliens wasn't as exhausting as getting new suits for the Master. He refused to wear something else but his black shirts an waist coats. And while Roka found him extraordinarily sexy in those, it was a horrible bother to find a proper tailor.

"Guess we do have to make some additional money someday," she grumbled, leaning against the wall, while a tall guy took measurement of the Time Lord. "Like this we'll only make it ten years or so... maximum."

"Don't worry." A wide grin wandered in her direction. "I'll get us more than we can ever spend. And that even without... travelling."

Well, Roka had little doubt he could do that, but his methods might not help with staying out of sight much.

Later on they were casually strolling down some streets, eating ice cream and watching people. At least Roka was doing that. The Master, on the other hand, seemed to be on the lookout for something else. His eyes darted around every corner, into every shadow, nook or cranny.

But what he was looking for, stayed in the dark.

This behaviour continued for the next few days. They didn't spend too much time indoors, booth not very able to sit still for too long, both missing adventures and travelling badly, being robbed of it so suddenly. Despite his initial outburst, the Master took the whole situation quite calmly.

Well, mostly.

Once he vanished into the local library for hours, skimming through old articles about the region, glasses perched up high on his nose, ignoring every questions as to what he was looking for.

The next few days he started to collect pebbles and thrown away bottle caps, and as much as Roka tried to find out if they were special in any way, they all were too different to make out a pattern - and her questions, again, fell on deaf ears.

For about half a day the Master abused Roka's thievery skill to let her steal random objects out of people's pockets. Key-chains, jewellery, cheap watches and other, seemingly useless nick-knacks.

One morning she found him in the kitchen, casually studying some newspapers.

"Mornin'," Roka mumbled sleepily in his direction, then nodded towards Cassy, who sat on the other side of the table, nose buried in a textbook.

"Hey, morning!" she cheered, looking up for only a second. The girl was occupied with her studies a lot and they didn't see much of her, most of the time.

The Master treated her with some distancing, being not too friendly, nor too mean around her. In the end he was no idiot and knew it was a stupid idea to get on the bad side of their host.

"Anything interesting in the news?" Roka wanted to know while preparing herself a cup of coffee.

"No idea."

"You're reading the newspaper..."

"Mhm..."

Roka trod to him and peeked over the paper. "Vacancies?" she asked perplex. "What're you up to?"

"Not searching for a job, that's for sure," he mumbled back, never even raising his eyes. "Just skimming this stuff for... patterns."

Roka just shrugged and left him to whatever he was up to. She realized they had been stranded for roughly over a week now, and it already started to gnaw on her badly. In opposite to her, the Master at least managed to keep himself busy somehow.

"If you're bored, you could go mystery hunting," Cassy suggested grinning. "I heard rumours about streetlamps just vanishing and strange sounds being heard in the night, groaning, wheezing. I bet there are aliens involved again." She chuckled and ducked her head back into her books.

The Master looked up, then at Roka, giving her a look as if to ask: You think the same as I do, right?

Somehow she was at a loss here. It sounded like typical small town ghost stories to her. But sure... before they went dying of boredom, they could as well investigate. Only when Cassy left the room did the Master elaborate further.

"Sounds like a TARDIS to me," he remarked. "The noises, not the street lights."

"You think she returns from time to time?" Roka asked hopefully. "Or maybe River managed to get on her good side and now tries to bring her to us?"

"Doubt it," he grumbled. "I'd say she stole the TARDIS, but the way she was misbehaving the whole time, it's more likely another malfunction. Not that I wouldn't think the ape is capable of betraying us like that."

"Honestly... I don't think River-"

"Doesn't matter." He interrupted, folding the news paper together. "It's not my TARDIS people tell of. The device I left would inform me, if it were." Suddenly a wide grin stole itself on his face. "That can only be the Doctor. Was only a matter of time until I would find a trace of him, here."

Then it dawned on Roka what he had been doing these days, what he had been looking for everywhere. She sighed, taking a sip from her coffee.

"You really are obsessed with him, aren't you?"

He chuckled and poked out his tongue. "Nothing better to chase away boredom than to annoy the Doctor. And who knows... If I can sneak into his TARDIS, maybe I can get a trace of my own. Or... you know... steal his again."

Roka giggled into her mug, remembering the last time too well. "Okay, but let's take some food along this time. I'm not going to stalk around all day outside with an empty stomach."

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