AN: Major angst warning for this chapter. I have virtual ice cream and cat cuddles for you when you're done.
Also, I posted a prequel to this 'verse over the weekend. It shows Nine pulling the timelines just before his regeneration to make this timeline possible. Still completely canon (we don't know what he did when he had the Vortex), but it fills in a blank.
Chapter 43: The Wolf is Silenced
Jack woke up in his bunk with the all-too-familiar ache that accompanied another resurrection. In the four months he'd been on the Valiant, he'd died as many times as he had in the 150 years beforehand. The Master took particular pleasure in keeping him on the edge of death just long enough for the pain to become unbearable before he allowed him to die.
He stretched his limbs carefully, groaning when he felt the pull of new skin across his shoulder. That's right. He burned me first this time.
"Sit up, Harkness," a guard ordered, his voice sharp.
Jack grunted and pushed himself upright. "And hello to you too, Greg," he said, giving the guard a flirty wink. Greg rolled his eyes, but both men knew the entire exchange was an act.
They'd been on the Valiant for two months when Greg had become Jack's primary guard. He'd treated Jack exactly like all the other guards, so Jack had been surprised when he'd used an old World War II code to tell him he was a member of the Underground.
Since then, Jack had learned of eight more guards on board the Valiant who were members of the underground resistance. With their help, he'd started a system of passing messages throughout the ship to the other prisoners—well, at least to the Jones family. So far, none of the double agents had interacted with either the Doctor or Rose.
"I don't have time for your games today, Captain," Greg bit out. "Our Master has asked me to take lunch to Miss Tyler when we're done here, so if you wouldn't mind hurrying up…"
Jack knew his eyes had widened, but he was able to control every other jubilant response. He winked again at the guard. "Anything for you, Greg."
oOoOoOoOo
The Master sat up straight when Dexter entered the flight deck. "I hope you have good news for me. It's been four months, and so far, the team you chose to collect Martha Jones has done nothing."
"The refugees and resistance have been surprisingly well-organised," Dexter admitted. "We didn't take their greater knowledge of local terrain into account—over and over, it's been that advantage of local hideouts that has enabled them to elude us."
He drummed his fingers on the table. "Please tell me this explanation is just a prelude to the announcement that you know where Martha Jones will be."
Dexter smiled. "Yes, sir. It is. She's meeting a high-ranking member of the Eastern Underground tonight at Cursus Hill in Turkey."
The Master leaned forward on the table, his fingers steepled in front of him. "Martha Jones and the Eastern Underground? And Christmas is still two months away."
oOoOoOoOo
After four months of travelling mostly by foot, the speed of the Chinook carrying Martha to Turkey was almost overwhelming. She watched the ground below the helicopter for a while before the sight made her dizzy.
When the Underground had found her and her French guide, Mathieu, they'd thought at first that they'd been caught by the Unified Containment Force. The spotlights, the amplified voice ordering them to stop—it was all straight out of one of Martha's nightmares.
The Underground hadn't initially shared her elation when she'd realised the truth. They had been understandably wary to trust a stranger, especially a stranger who'd been asking questions at all the refugee camps, trying to find them. But when she'd selflessly offered her first aid skills following a UCF ambush, they'd finally welcomed her into their inner circle.
With their help, she'd travelled across western Europe and into the former Soviet Union, carrying the Doctor's message with her everywhere she went. As the months dragged on, the people she met were more battered and hopeless, and she loved to see their dead eyes come alive again when they realised this might not be the end for humanity after all.
Her mission wasn't all sunshine and roses now that she had the Underground supporting her. Everywhere she went the big, scar-faced UCF agent dogged her steps. Underground members across Europe had deflected his attempts at capture time and again, putting themselves on the line for her. Somehow, though, Martha herself had stayed free. As she stared ahead towards Turkey, she only hoped that wouldn't change.
oOoOoOoOo
Two hours later, Martha was seated in the passenger seat of a convoy truck, listening to Brigadier Erik Calvin of UNIT explain the fast one they'd just pulled on the UCF.
"There is no Cursus Hill, actually," he told her. "It's disinformation. Cursus Hill isn't a geographical location; it's just the code name we give to a meet point. We decide where Cursus Hill is going to be, depending on the nature of the operation."
"I see," Martha said. A faint smile crossed her face when she thought about how angry the scarred UCF agent must have been when he got to what he thought was Cursus Hill and she wasn't there.
"You are a high-value target, Miss Jones," Calvin said. "To our certain knowledge, quite apart from their general security echelons, they have at least three dedicated kill-squads hunting for you. One in particular was closing in on your heels in Istanbul, so we had to play things close to the chest. We've changed the location of Cursus Hill four times in the last twenty hours. I imagine the UCF will be cursing your name right about now."
Martha grinned. "Oh, I'm sure they are," she agreed. "Their Master won't be too pleased with them, either."
The Brigadier shot her a sideways glance. "Speaking of the Master… Miss Jones, I have to ask. You must know. How do we do it?"
A hole opened in the pit of Martha's stomach, as it always did when she could tell people expected her to know the answer to something she was clueless about. "How do we do what?"
"How do we kill a Time Lord?"
She jerked her head around and stared at him. "Is that what people think I'm doing?" she asked. "Travelling the Earth, looking for a way to kill the Master?"
"Why else would the Doctor send you on this mission?" Calvin countered.
Martha stared at him. "When you introduced yourself, you told me your father knew the Doctor when he worked for UNIT. Did he ever tell you any stories that suggested the Doctor would send his friends on a quest looking for a weapon?"
The tips of his ears turned red. "No," he admitted. "Look, we're almost to our base. Let's wait until we can sit down with some tea and biscuits, and you can tell me what your actual plan is."
"Oh, I haven't had biscuits in three months," Martha said, already feeling the way they would crumble on her tongue.
The Brigadier smiled proudly. "We've managed to keep some essential supplies on hand."
The notion that tea and biccies were essential supplies was so British, homesickness hit Martha like a punch in the gut. She took a deep breath and stared out the window, determined not to let this military man see her crying over McVitie's.
Thirty minutes later, they were sitting on opposite sides of a desk in a cramped office, a plate of chocolate biscuits between them and each with tea in hand. Martha raised her cup to her nose and breathed deeply, taking in the comforting aroma.
"God, this feels good," she muttered after she took the first sip.
"We strive for a glimmer of civility here in Turkey," Calvin said.
"Well, you've managed it."
He took a sip of his own tea, then set the cup down. "You really don't know how it can be done?"
Martha sighed and wrapped her hands around her cup. It was cold in Turkey. "I really don't. I'm sorry."
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Damn shame."
"Even if I knew how to kill him once—which I suppose could be done in most ways that could kill humans—Time Lords don't die when they're mortally wounded. They regenerate."
He scowled. "Yes, frightfully hard to dispose of, that's what I'd heard."
Martha ate a biscuit while she considered the brigadier's misconception. "But you thought I'd know how?"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought the Doctor had told you some secret, maybe about an alien weapon that was scattered in pieces around the globe. An alien weapon that has the power to kill a Time Lord stone dead, without that regeneration nonsense."
"That's not the Doctor's way," Martha said slowly, her mind processing what Calvin had suggested. "He has a plan to stop the Master, but he's not going to do it by killing him." She tapped her chin. "But… it might not hurt if that's what the Master thinks I'm doing. He'd be more likely to believe I'm walking the Earth looking for some mythical anti-regeneration weapon than the truth—so let him."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because it would fit with his notions of what the human race is," she told him. "He treats us with violence and oppression because he expects us to resist with violence. The Master has a low opinion of our species, Brigadier."
"That much, Miss Jones, is obvious."
Martha nodded decisively. "So let's give him a red herring to follow. If he thinks I'm looking for a weapon, he won't wonder why I'm travelling the Earth. And if he doesn't wonder, it won't occur to him to question why I'm talking to people in every refugee camp I visit, telling them about the Doctor."
She fixed the Brigadier with a look. "Because in the end, that's what's going to save humanity. Not a gun, not a missile—just hope, and a name. The Doctor can stop the Master. He has a plan, Brigadier. But he needs us to help."
"What can I do?"
Martha smiled and leaned back in her chair. "I thought you'd never ask."
oOoOoOoOo
Rose rolled her eyes when Greg delivered her dinner again. Most of the guards left her alone, but Greg was chatty.
"Hello, Rose!"
She scowled as she took the tray from him and sat down at the table. That was the other thing she hated about Greg. He acted like they were best mates, and nothing she'd said got him to stop.
He sat down opposite her, and Rose blinked twice. That was new. "Your kind usually just lurk over there in the doorway." She pointed with her fork.
Greg pulled something small out of his pocket, which she recognised a moment later as an iPod. "My kind?" he said as he fiddled with the controls. "Is that really the kind of attitude your Doctor teaches you to have towards people different from you? For shame, Rose Tyler."
Rose stabbed at the meat, making the fork click hard on the plate. "The Doctor doesn't usually mind if I don't fraternise with the enemy."
He laughed. "Fraternise with the enemy? And here I was going to offer some dinner music. The Master modified this iPod to play remotely via the mini speakers in the wall around your television. I wonder when Apple will come up with that." He pressed play, and Glenn Miller's "Moonlight Serenade" filled the room. "You know what this song makes me think of? Dancing with a pretty girl in the middle of an air raid, not caring if the bombs fall all around us."
Rose took a bite and chewed slowly as she considered what he'd just said. That was almost point by point a description of how she'd met Jack.
"Yeah, but you'd want to be near some kind of monument, wouldn't you?" she tested. "Just to sorta… set the mood?"
Greg leaned back in his chair and nodded. "Big Ben. Can you picture it? World War II, the bombs are falling, and I've just rescued a pretty girl. Now I need to get her to dance with me."
Rose snorted. "That sounds like Captain Jack," she said. "Always a smooth one with the ladies—drives the Doctor spare."
She kept her tone mocking, but tapped her finger on the table to indicate she'd understood the message. Jack had sent Greg, which meant he could be trusted.
Greg smirked, and Rose reminded herself that he had to appear to be a normal guard. "I can understand that," he said, winking at Rose. "If I had a gorgeous wife like you, I wouldn't want other men chatting her up either."
He leaned forward on the table. "I bet he likes the fact that hardly anyone on the Valiant has ever seen you. The Master brings the Doctor to the flight deck occasionally, and Jack… well, everyone knows Jack. But you, Rose Tyler—you're a ghost. Some people who weren't on board at the beginning swear you don't even exist."
His voice was mocking, but Rose saw the warning in his eyes and a chill went down her spine. She'd wondered, off and on, if any of the other prisoners got to leave their cells. Here was her answer.
The Master was trying to get people to forget her, but why?
oOoOoOoOo
Martha stared at the crowd of prisoners, trying to remember how exactly she'd gotten here. Her journey hadn't been without incident since leaving Turkey, but even when she saw the rocket shipyard stretching across Russia, she hadn't imagined she'd end up in a labour camp in Japan.
And yet, here she was. Aka Labour Camp. Things had gone wrong from the moment she'd set foot in Japan. First, her contact hadn't shown, and then, the perception filter had truly failed for the first time. It was almost as if… almost as if there was something in Japan blocking the signal from Archangel.
But she could think about that later. Tonight was her night to tell stories of the Doctor. Her friends Hito and Ono had brought a group of slaves to listen to her message of hope.
Hope. Martha laughed. How could she offer hope when she was just as trapped as they were?
She drew a deep breath and told a story about a whole planet of people who'd been trapped, stuck on the motorway with no way out. Leaving out the fact that his primary focus had been finding Rose, she wove a story of a man who leapt from car to car in order to save a doomed population.
"And when it was over," she said, "when the motorway opened up and all those people flew into the sky, the Doctor's friend looked at him and he said one more thing. You are not alone."
She suppressed a shudder that went down her spine at the words they now knew referred to the Master and plastered a smile on her face.
"That's what we have to remember right now," she encouraged the Japanese prisoners. "It feels like we're all alone, especially here in the labour camp. But we're not. Every other person on Earth is looking for hope, just as much as you are. And if all of us together will do as the Doctor asks…"
"What does he want?" a woman asked.
Martha turned and smiled at her. "Just say his name. Say his name on May 15 at 4:00 in the afternoon. Then the Doctor will know that he isn't alone, that we're all with him. That's when he'll be able to stop the Master."
oOoOoOoOo
When the Doctor stepped onto the flight deck, the manic energy in the room made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "What are you doing?" he asked the Master, without preamble.
His old friend spun on his heels, a wide smile on his face. "I have an idea," he said, "but first, tell me about it, Doctor. Tell me what it was like at the end of the war."
The Doctor sat down at the conference table and clenched his fists where the Master couldn't see them. "Why do you care?" he asked, his voice flat. "You weren't there. You ran."
"Tell me about it, or I'll conveniently forget to have food brought to your bond mate until you do."
A sibilant curse escaped the Doctor, but the Master just laughed. "It's almost too easy, how I can get you to do what I want simply by threatening her. Still, if it works…" A trace of steel entered his voice. "Tell me, Doctor."
And so the Doctor told him about the fall of Arcadia, and the day when he'd finally realised someone needed to say, "No more." The Time War was ripping the universe apart, and if he had to destroy a galaxy to save a universe, well, the greater good would balance it out.
He told him about stealing the Moment—the Master had laughed when he'd mentioned breaking into the archives. Some of the details were fuzzy after that, due to the trauma left by both the act and his own regeneration.
"Hmmm…" The Master tapped his finger against his chin. "Do you know what my own paradox is doing to Time?" he asked.
The Doctor gritted his teeth. His head throbbed every time he tried to look at timelines. "Of course I do."
"Well, this kind of damage breaks down the time lock around the War," the Master said. "So if I were to take handsome Jack's Vortex manipulator once we find Martha, I could, conceivably, undo everything you did."
"You can't do that," the Doctor ground out. "The paradox would be more massive than even the TARDIS could support. If Gallifrey came back, then the whole universe would have to die in its place."
The Master's eyes flashed. "Sometimes, your answers are tedious, Doctor. You fail to grasp that as the superior race, we have that right."
Horror and anger warred within the Doctor. That was exactly the conclusion the High Council had come to at the end of the War. The Doctor had not been privy to their conversations, but he knew Rassilon well enough to know what he would suggest. Let Gallifrey survive, at the cost of the universe, and then the Time Lords would evolve into beings existing on a higher plane.
When the Doctor remained quiet, the Master sighed and waved at the door. "Take him back to his room, Greg."
oOoOoOoOo
In all her running from the UCF, Martha had never dreamed that when she came face-to-face with the scarred agent, he would be a prisoner himself. In fact, at first she'd thought he'd found her.
When Griffin told her the story of the runaround he'd gotten when he'd tried to tell his higher-ups that Martha Jones was going to Japan, she listened. There was something off about that story, just like there had been something off when her contact had disappeared and her perception filter stopped working.
All of the information pointed to one obvious conclusion: someone else was in control of Japan. Someone who had done a very good job of letting the Master think he was in charge, while at the same time removing every tool he used to control the Earth.
But who?
oOoOoOoOo
As their time on the Valiant neared the six month mark, a few important dates cropped up. They obviously couldn't go anywhere to celebrate, so instead, the Doctor set out to create a new mental space for them. It was easy to create the illusion of a familiar place within their bond, but taking her somewhere new would require more work. He spent almost a week thinking about every detail of the setting so it would feel real when he brought her here.
It was all worth it when the lights went out and Rose joined him in the Alpine chalet he had created for her. She turned a slow circle in the middle of the living room, taking in the Christmas tree that stood beside the roaring fire.
It's Christmas, then?
In a few weeks, he told her. But I wanted to show you this tonight, because the holiday isn't the only thing we have to celebrate.
Rose's forehead wrinkled adorably as she tried to work out what he meant. He kissed the furrow away, then smiled at her.
We've been properly together for two years now.
She smiled and slid her hands over his chest, linking them loosely behind his neck. We didn't celebrate that anniversary last year.
The Doctor bumped his nose against hers. It's hard to keep track of all of them when we're jumping around in time.
True, she agreed. So. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. Would that be two years since you told me you loved me, since our first date, or since I promised you forever?
He chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Since I couldn't bring myself to face the Devil without letting you know how much I loved you first.
The melancholy that washed over her surprised him. Oh, I loved that moment, she assured him. But it scared me too—it always does when you say you love me in the middle of a dangerous situation.
She turned away and looked out the window, and the Doctor watched her for a moment, observing the snow falling. Then he slowly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Would you rather I didn't?
Rose tilted her head back so she could see him. Oh no. It's just that jolt of fear when I know you aren't sure we're gonna get out of something… but you're right. If the worst happened, I'd cherish hearing those words one more time.
He hummed and brushed a kiss against her temple.
Hang on, Rose said. So if today is our dating anniversary—
The Doctor cleared his throat. It was a few days ago, actually. It took a little more work to pull this off than I anticipated.
She blinked. Right. But that means that next week, it'll have been two years since I first promised to stay with you forever.
His eyes widened, and Rose loved that she had actually managed to surprise him with an anniversary for once. Two years since we first bonded, he said, a hint of awe in his voice. Any regrets?
None, she told him firmly. I might not have known this kind of relationship was possible when I was a kid, but I wouldn't trade it for a typical human marriage in a million years.
A draught blew in through the window, and Rose shivered.
Let's sit in front of the fireplace, the Doctor suggested. He took the spot in the corner of the couch and patted the cushion next to him.
Instead of sitting down beside him, Rose stretched out on the couch and rested her head in his lap. The Doctor smiled down at her and started playing with her hair.
What do you want to do when we're done here?
She bit her lip. By "done here," he meant once they'd taken care of the Master. They hadn't talked much about what came next, probably because they both struggled to remain hopeful that they'd win.
Well, I already told you I want to go back to the Isle of Wight.
Right. We need to park the TARDIS in 1969 for a month so you can enjoy the second half of our stay there.
Yes, please! Rose wrinkled her nose. I wish we could go back to the beginning of our time there and just change our past a little bit, but I suppose that wouldn't be smart.
Not really. And we learned some important things in that month, so it really wouldn't be wise to erase it.
Fine.
The Doctor chuckled at the begrudging way she dragged out the word, then managed to shift them so he was stretched out beside her. Rose rested her head on his shoulder, still trying to think of places she wanted to go.
Oh! You were gonna take me to the planet that pretty paint came from.
Ekbrilon, the Doctor supplied. There's a restaurant with outdoor seating right on the water. Candlelight only, and the light reflects off the sand and the water.
Sounds gorgeous. Rose sighed and cuddled closer to him. The more they talked about the things they wanted to do next, the more confident she felt that they'd have a next.
We will, Rose. I promise you, we will get back home where we belong.
Rose nodded. I believe you, Doctor.
oOoOoOoOo
The Doctor looked around the flight deck, taking in the Christmas decorations. He'd known the holiday was coming up, but somehow the tree decked out in fairy lights and tinsel seemed out of place on the Valiant.
"I didn't expect you to celebrate Earth holidays," he said.
The Master sat down at the conference table. "Well, this one happens to be special. I arrived on Earth two years ago this month."
The Doctor took the only other seat available. "I never asked you when exactly you arrived, after you pushed my TARDIS to give you extra time."
"It was the week before Christmas, 2006. I watched the news coverage on the Sycorax ship, of course, and the downfall of Harriet Jones." He leaned back in his chair. "That was what gave me the idea to go into politics, and look at me now." He spread his hands out in front of him.
The Doctor clenched his jaw. It had already occurred to him that the Master had stepped into the power vacuum he'd created when he'd removed Harriet Jones from office. Though he stood by his belief that the former prime minister had made the wrong choice in killing the fleeing Sycorax, there was no doubt that she would be preferable to her successor. At least Harriet Jones never showed signs of megalomania.
"Of course," the Master continued, "that was also when I discovered the existence of Torchwood. Because the weapon that shot down the Sycorax? That was far superior to anything humans should have for another hundred years. So I did some digging, and imagine my delight when I learned there was an entire agency on your favourite planet devoted to protecting Britain… from you."
"Had the Void ship already arrived in this world when you first visited Torchwood?"
The Master shook his head. "That happened shortly after. They knew the weak spot was there, of course, since that's why they built the tower in the first place."
"Why didn't you tell them what it was when it appeared?" the Doctor asked.
"Because, Doctor, there is a difference between advanced information a human might possess, and the kind of information that makes Torchwood suspect you're an alien. I realise subtlety isn't exactly your thing, but surely even you can understand that."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Are you really going to lecture me on being subtle, Master? Have you forgotten the time you called yourself Dr. Harcourt De'ath?"
The Master's nostrils flared, but after a moment, he continued with his story. "From then on, I became something of an advisor to Yvonne Hartman. I was the one who told her that if they fired particle beams at the breach, it would open long enough for them to harness the radiation from the Void into electricity."
The Doctor ground his teeth together. "You nearly destroyed two universes."
The Master waved his hand dismissively. "But I knew it would be fine, because I'd already seen you at the end of the universe."
Another thought occurred to the Doctor. "You saw Rose, too, and yet you tried to trap her in the parallel world. You were willing to create a paradox, just to ruin my life."
"Oh, but Doctor, don't you know?" The Master pressed his hands to the table. "Your tragic separation from Rose Tyler was the prime timeline. I could feel events pulling in that direction from the moment I arrived in 2006." He shook his head. "Then something happened in the first few months of 2007, and timelines began to change around you. All I did was attempt to pull things back to the original course of events."
The Doctor stilled. He hadn't known, but if the timeframe the Master gave was accurate, he could guess what had changed their future. The TARDIS had saved Rose, but she'd only been able to do so because of her bond with Rose. If he hadn't woken up Rose's telepathy…
"You still tried to change events you knew had happened," he pointed out.
For a moment, the Master's smug grin slipped. "Yes, and your ship interfered," he spat out. "Time would have compensated for Rose Tyler's loss in this universe."
The Doctor knew the Master was right. Hadn't they seen echoes of that timeline more than once in the year after Canary Wharf? He swallowed hard and adjusted his tie as he looked for a new topic of conversation. The thought that time would have marched on, uncaring of the fact that he'd lost Rose, made him nervous.
He tried to catch a glimpse of their timelines—some kind of reassurance that this year would end well would be nice. But the paradox clouded everything, and all he could see was the wrongness of the present.
"So, it's Christmas," he said after a moment. "Do you know what you're getting?"
The Master chuckled and spread his hands out in front of him. "I already have everything I want."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. Sometimes, the Master's insolent conceit was overdone. "This can't be all you want, Master."
The door slid open and Francine entered, pushing a tea cart. The Master hopped to his feet and poured for both of them, adding milk and sugar to the Doctor's cup before bringing the tea back to the table.
"Oh, but it is, Doctor," he said after he sat back down. "I have the Earth to command and you under my control. What more could I ask for?"
The doors opened again, and Dexter walked in and offered a sharp salute. "Sir."
The Master leaned back in his chair and smiled at her, then looked at the Doctor. "See? A gorgeous young lady in uniform—one of the perks of power. Why would I want anything else?" Anger suffused the Doctor's face, and the Master rolled his eyes. Had the Doctor always been this boring? Weren't renegades supposed to push the boundaries of rules and the law? Wasn't that part of the definition?
"Have a seat, Dexter." He poured a cup of tea and slid it over to her, then said, "And please keep 'sir'-ing me like that. If you do it often enough, I'll promote you to queen." He tapped his chin. "There must be somewhere that needs a queen. I'll look into it."
She sipped her tea and didn't smile.
"You aren't smiling," he said. "That means something has happened. What have you got for me?" he asked. "Not all bad news, I hope?"
Dexter pushed a strand of straight blonde hair back over her ear. "Some bad news, I'm afraid, sir."
This time, the sir didn't thrill him the way it had a moment ago. "Oh dear. Not another food riot in Brazil. I hate it when that happens."
Her eyes flickered over to the Doctor. "No, sir."
The Master waved his hand. "You can say whatever you like in front of the Doctor. It's not like he can use any information he gains against us."
His ADC pursed her lips, and her obvious disapproval pleased the Master. It meant she took security seriously. But… "I insist."
Dexter set her teacup down carefully and looked directly at him. "There's been an incident in Honshu."
The Master sat up straight. "Honshu? Japanese Honshu? I don't like the sound of that. I've got a lot of interests in Honshu." He pointed to the report she held. "Show me."
She handed it over, and he sped-read through it. "The whole zone?" he asked when he grasped what it was telling him. "The whole zone, all of the guidance plants?"
"Yes, sir. Power has been down for sixty-four minutes, sir."
The Master took a deep breath and scratched his forehead. "I'm really going to be obliged to kill someone about this," he said, enjoying the sharp disapproval he could sense from the Doctor at that declaration.
"I'm certain you are, sir," she told him. "There is another factor for your consideration." She handed him another sheet of paper. "Transcript of a phone conversation I took thirty minutes ago. I thought you'd want to see it."
The Master's eyes widened when he got to the useful bit of information. "The Drast? The Drast? Here?" he said. "Those fortune-hunting, glowy-glowy, entrepreneuring nobodies? The Drast?" he spat out, spinning to look at the Doctor. "Did you know anything about this?"
But for once, the Doctor looked clueless instead of smug. The Master sighed; at least this wasn't some part of his plan.
"Still, the Drast?" he said yet again. He leaned back in his chair and debated all the options. "I'll teach the Drast to mess with me," he decided. "Bioluminescent idiots. And I was starting to like Japan so much."
The ADC shifted in her seat, and the Master smirked. "Unless you teleport to Japan in the next hour, you don't have anything to worry about. Summon the Toclafane swarms. I want the Drast to know, without any qualification, who's Master."
"Yes, sir."
The Master pressed his lips into a thin line and considered. "Burn the islands," he said finally. "Yes, burn them. We can build guidance somewhere else."
"Yes, sir." The ADC finished her tea, then stood, saluted, and left the room.
The Doctor's hand were clenched around the edge of the table. "You're going to destroy an entire country, just to prove a point to another race?"
The Master propped his feet up on the table and grinned at him.
"Oh, come on," he cried. "Vengeance can be so much fun. And besides proving a point to the Drast, it's annoyed you."
oOoOoOoOo
That evening, Rose was waiting for the Doctor. He'd told her around lunch time that the Master wanted to see him on the flight deck that afternoon. She'd rolled her eyes at the other Time Lord's obvious fixation on the Doctor, but thought nothing more of it.
Until she'd felt the rage coursing through the Doctor in the middle of the afternoon.
He'd deflected her questions, or maybe he'd been too angry to even notice them. At any rate, she had no idea what had made him so upset, but she could tell how close he was to losing hope. This was her turn to be the one who comforted, rather than the one needing comfort.
The Doctor was still tense when the lights went out, but he followed her telepathic summons without question. Rose had debated which room in the TARDIS would be most relaxing, and when the Doctor's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the red grass, she knew she'd chosen well.
She held out a hand, and he took it readily. Come with me, love. She led him to the lone silver tree, standing as a sentinel on top of the hill. The red grass was surprisingly soft to sit in, and once she had herself situated with her back against the tree trunk, she invited him to lay down and put his head in her lap.
The Doctor stretched out on his side and draped an arm over Rose's legs. He sighed when she started running her fingers through his hair, and she waited until most of the tension had left his body to ask.
What happened today?
He stiffened, then rolled over onto his back so he could look at her. The Master, he spat out. He discovered an alien race had already taken over Japan, so he burned the islands.
Rose's fingers stopped moving. What do you mean, he burned the islands?
He sent a horde Toclafane in with orders to destroy the country. Kill everyone, burn down the cities…
Her stomach turned at the image his words created. The entire country?
All of it. The Doctor scrubbed his hands over his face. Of all the Time Lords to survive, why did it have to be him?
Rose ran her fingers over his forehead, trying to massage the lines away. I wish I knew the answer to that, Doctor.
He sighed. Just five and a half months left. We can last that long, right?
Yeah, we can. Rose was a little surprised he didn't feel guilty that his plan was taking so long, leaving the Earth to suffer for the year, but she wasn't going to bring that up if he didn't.
Instead, she tugged on his shoulder, and when he gave in to her silent request and sat up, she shifted so she was sitting between his legs. As the first sun slipped below the horizon, turning that portion of the sky pink and purple, Rose leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder.
The Doctor wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled into her neck, and Rose turned her head slightly to kiss him.
Feeling better? she asked after he pulled out of the kiss and leaned back against the tree.
He nodded, and his stubble brushed against her cheek. I'm so glad you're here with me, Rose, he told her, and she knew without asking that he meant here, in this universe, not necessarily on the Valiant. I'm not sure… He cleared his throat. Having you to talk to every night is keeping me sane. This would have been so much harder to do without you.
Rose focused on the Doctor and how much she loved him, and a moment later, his arms tightened around her. Well, it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere then.
The Doctor chuckled. A very good thing, he agreed.
You know what? She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to it. They keep trying to split us up, but they never ever will.
oOoOoOoOo
Celebrating their anniversaries and focusing on their future strengthened the hope of both Rose and the Doctor. Rose even found herself trying to reach out to the Master.
"You don't have to do this," she told him on Christmas Day, when he brought her a turkey dinner and a cracker. "You could just undo all of this—you know that if you turned off the paradox machine, everything would go back to the way it's supposed to be."
He raised an eyebrow. "And then do you imagine that UNIT would just let me go? I assassinated the President of the United States on live television."
Rose shrugged. "But the Doctor could ask permission to have you travel with us. I know…" She bit her lip, then continued. "I know it hurts him to be the only one. I can be there for him in so many ways, but I don't have the shared history the two of you have."
The Master crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her. "Even if I were willing to travel with you as some kind of pet, the drums won't let me go."
Excitement burned in Rose. It seemed like maybe… maybe he was considering it. If she could just convince him to stop all of this, maybe they could go home now, instead of in five months.
"What if we could take care of that? Between the three of us, the Doctor, the TARDIS, and me, I bet we could figure out why you have those drums in your head, and get them quiet."
The Master stared at her. "What's happened to you?" he asked finally. "Three weeks ago, you would barely talk to me. Now you want me to travel with you, and you're going to go into my head and stop the sound that's been tormenting me my entire life. Why?"
Rose twirled her fork. "Dunno," she said. "Guess… it's hope. Me and the Doctor, we know we're gonna get out of here. We're going home, back to the TARDIS where we belong." She looked up at him. "It's easy to be generous when you already have everything you want."
He pressed his lips into a thin line, then stalked out of her room.
He didn't come back for two weeks. Rose almost hoped he'd gotten annoyed enough with her to just leave her alone, so when he walked into her room carrying a medium sized box, she was disappointed.
"Do you know what I've realised, Miss Tyler?"
The Master's nonchalant tone immediately put Rose on guard. "What?"
The Master turned on the CCTV screen, showing her the Doctor, sitting on his bed with his back against the wall.
It had been so long since Rose had seen her Doctor that even this glimpse of him onscreen felt heavenly. He questioned her happiness, and she said, Smile, Doctor—you're on telly.
He looked straight at the camera and flashed her the smile he reserved for her. I wish I could see you, too.
Nice suit, she observed. The suit jacket was slung over his chair, and he had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie hanging loose around his neck. She eyed the rumpled grey trousers. Of course, it doesn't fit quite as nicely as the brown and the blue…
"Oh, look at that," the Master cooed. "You use that bond so effortlessly, don't you?"
"Well, we've had it for two years. It does tend to become habit after a while."
He hummed noncommittally. "I've explored so much of your bond with the Doctor, but no matter what I do, I can't break it."
"You should have known enough about a Gallifreyan marriage bond to know they're unbreakable," Rose told him.
"But you aren't Gallifreyan," the Master pointed out. "Time Lord, yes. Gallifreyan, no."
"Can we skip the 'previously on the Master and Rose' bit and move on to today's episode?" Rose asked impatiently.
Amusement lit the Master's eyes. "As I was saying, I've been unable to break your bond. Your telepathic bond."
He pulled a thin silver choker out of the box and attached it around Rose's neck.
"Jewellery, Harry?" Rose asked. "I think my husband might get upset if I accept gifts like this from another man."
"Your bond mate," the Master said, irritation flashing in his eyes when she refused yet again to use the term in front of him, "won't know any better. Not really."
Rose straightened up and looked at the monitor. "What are you going to do to him?" she asked.
Concern flared over the bond. Rose tried to calm the Doctor with a promise that nothing was happening that was any worse than what she'd experienced so far, but that wasn't a very reassuring thought.
"I don't plan to do anything… to him."
Rose wanted to hide her fear from the Doctor, but she knew he felt it. His own worry screamed at her over the bond, and she saw his hands clench into fists.
"As I was saying, I've discovered your bond is impossible to break. I can't force him out of your mind, nor you out of his. But the bond makes you both stronger, and I really can't have that."
Despite the insolent tone she used to irritate the Master, Rose was becoming more scared by the minute. She looked at the television and tried to memorise every inch of the Doctor's features.
I love you, she told him, hoping with every fibre of her being that this wouldn't be her last chance to say it.
"What do you plan to do about it?" Rose asked.
The Master's eyes glittered. "Oh, I was so hoping you would ask. Do you see this?" he asked, holding up a small remote. "This is the remote to the device I just placed on your neck—oh, and by the way, there's an explosive wired into the latch, so don't even think about taking it off, unless you want to lose your head." He tilted his head. "I really don't know if it's possible to regenerate after being blown to bits."
I love you, too, Rose.
Some of the tightness around her chest eased with the Doctor's words, and she rolled her eyes at the Master. "And what does the blessed device do?" she asked. "You're worse than all the villains on telly," she told him matter-of-factly. "Nattering on about your plans, blah blah blah."
"It's a personal telepathic dampening field. And if I press this button—"
The Master pressed the red button, and Rose's eyes slammed shut as pain seared through her mind. The bond was gone. Screams filled the room, but she ignored them as she frantically looked for the Doctor. She found the space where he should be in her mind, but instead of pulsing with the Doctor's presence, it was dark—like a burned out lightbulb.
Her eyes flew to the CCTV to make sure the Doctor was still alive, and that was when she realised the diabolical genius of the Master's plan. The Doctor was shouting and pounding on the walls, trying to get away from his prison. The sound was muted, but she could see him saying her name over and over.
He thought the Master had killed her.
Rose instinctively tried to reach for him, to reassure him that she was still here, and she moaned out loud when that sent a fresh wave of pain through her skull. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the Master's smirk, and she pressed her lips together. He wanted to break them Master chuckled. "Oh, this is even more fun than I thought it would be."
"Go to hell," Rose spat out. Her throat felt raw, and she realised the screams she'd heard earlier had been hers.
The Master raised his eyebrows. "I think I'll leave this on for now." He nodded to the television where the Doctor was now sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. "I wouldn't want you to forget how much you've hurt your beloved bond mate." He fiddled with the remote. "In fact…"
The Doctor's voice filled the room, low moans of her name followed by whimpers of pain. He'd stopped shouting and pulled up his knees so he could hide his face and rock back and forth, but the quiet cries cut Rose to the quick.
"So perfect," the Master said, reaching out to touch her collar. Rose slapped his hand, and he backed away from her with both hands held up. "My apologies if I crossed a line, Miss Tyler," he said. "And now, I'll leave you here to consider how your precious bond became your biggest weakness."
He slipped out of the room, but Rose's eyes were already fixed on the screen again. The Doctor shoved shaking hands through his hair, yanking on sections. Rose tried again to reach for him, and tears slipped down her cheeks when he still wasn't there. Unable to watch any longer, she curled up on her side and sobbed into her pillow.