Chapter Three

Jack watched as the Master left the room, swaggering away along the corridor with that familiar sense of superiority. As the door closed, the scene faded back into nothingness, leaving him and the Doctor stood in a sea of darkness once more.

"I thought you said you used to be friends." Said Jack, frowning. The Doctor tilted his head to the side and smiled bitterly.

"Well we were. Once upon a time… we really… really were." The Doctor's voice faded slightly as he spoke and shifted almost uncomfortably. Jack felt something like unease rise in his stomach. He knew that tone too well by now. The Doctor took a sharp inhalation of breath and frowned into space. The next time he spoke, his voice had become hard and distant. "When I told you we were friends it was because you didn't need to know any more than that. I lied, because if I told you two the truth, well…" His voice lowered to a growl and he turned to Jack with a dark glare. "You and Martha would never have looked at me the same way again."

Jack felt his breathing hitch. His frown became even deeper as he struggled to comprehend the Doctor's words. He gritted his teeth.

"You can't be serious."

The Doctor stared at him pointedly, and then looked away and shook his head. "It's more complicated than it sounds. But that was a long time ago – lifetimes ago, in fact." He said, but Jack couldn't help but hear something like regret in the Doctor's voice. "But there was something else I lied about. When I told you Timelords can sense each other, that was a lie. Well… not a total lie, but I missed something out. The Master and I, we-"

The Doctor stopped short, tilting his head upwards in the emptiness, studying the empty air as his face flurried through a range of expressions. He seemed to be searching for the right words. "We… like opposite poles of a magnet, we attracted each other. That's why the Tardis always managed to end up wherever he was; why we ended up at just the right point in time, on exactly the right planet to find him, even when he was tucked away… right at the end of the universe."

Jack looked at him strangely, at a loss for words. The Doctor's face twisted into a painful smile, but he said nothing else. Instead, the nothingness turned into somethingness, and Jack had no choice but to turn and watch the next memory.

Moonlight crept through the tiny window, casting everything it touched in dazzling silver. The Doctor stood, craning his neck to look downwards at the Earth below. The first fires had burnt out days ago, but small patches of smouldering earth still flickered in the silence. Not for the first time, he found himself thinking of Martha, and whether she could still be alive.

Suddenly, the Doctor tensed. "You should be in bed." He said, apparently to himself. "Mrs. Saxon will be wondering where her husband is."

He turned his head just slightly, surveying the shadowed form that stood at the silently closing door. The Master grunted.

"You always were too good at hide and seek. You spoiled my surprise visit."

The Doctor clenched his jaw and turned back towards the window, ignoring the vague whisper of danger that came with the Master's presence. He knew that the other Timelord had come to gloat over his captivity, but showing anything but passiveness would do more harm than good.

After a moment of silence he heard the Master move, and the next moment the other Timelord was beside him, staring out at the sky with a manic smile on his face.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Just imagine how much better it will look when a million rockets fill the air, shooting through the stars to declare war on a million different planets. Oh, Doctor…" his voice was quiet, almost reverent, and yet quivering with excitement. "…what an empire we will create."

The Doctor felt himself shiver. He stared out, a look of disgust on his face.

"So that's what you're planning. That's where this insanity is heading? War, spiralling out across the galaxies… like a wildfire spreading outwards from the Earth."

The Master snorted. "How melodramatic."

The Doctor frowned deeply, still staring out at the sky. "You know I won't let you do this."

The quiet broke suddenly, as the Master threw back his head and burst into mocking laughter. The Doctor backed away.

"Oh… shut up." Snapped the Master, his mood changing as quickly as it ever did. He snorted contemptuously. "Like you can stop me, stuck here in your little white room. It might have escaped your notice, Doctor, but…" He placed a finger to his lips in mock-thought, taking slow steps towards the retreating Timelord. A demonic glint of moonlight caught the Master's eye, "…you are my prisoner."

The Master seemed to pause at his own words. He smiled, and closed his eyes in pleasure. "Oh yes… but that sounds so good!"

Danger flashed in the Doctor's head. He stepped away, trying to put distance between them. If the Master's fury turned on him, there would be nowhere to run, but that wouldn't stop him trying. He stumbled over the chair and fell back into it, keeping his eyes on the other Timelord even as he fell back. He bared his teeth as the Master moved closer, looming over him with a snarl.

"Master, just listen to me." He hissed, "It's not too late. All you have to do is dismantle the paradox machine. You can stop this before it goes too far."

The Master dropped to his knees on the white carpet, the moonlight casting his face in a skull-like shadow. He leaned in close, grinding his teeth. The Doctor could feel his breath brush against his face.

"Wouldn't you just love that." He whispered. "The Doctor, once again saving the pathetic little humans, by taking the nasty madman away."

"You know it's not like that." The Doctor whispered.

For a moment, the Master's face faltered. The Doctor stared into his dark brown eyes and saw hesitation flash behind them. He held his breath, pleading silently that for once, the Master would see reason.

And then the moment was gone. The Master pushed himself upwards onto his feet and turned away, the expression on his face hidden in shadow. The Doctor sighed, staring at the retreating figure with something like regret. He stood up.

"You know, I said we both ran away," The Master snapped, "but I was wrong. I ran away. You never stopped."

The Doctor froze, watching the back of the Master's head in confusion, unsure of how to take the words. The Master snorted in derisive laughter. "And what's funny is that you can't even admit what it is you're running from. It's pathetic."

The Master began pacing, forwards and backwards between the window and the door, his head bowed in thought. His fingertips tapped manically on his shirt. The other Timelord watched apprehensively. It was becoming increasingly clear just how unstable the Master had become since the last time they'd met, and he could almost feel the fury rising up in the other man as he paced, that drumbeat pounding out against his skin.

He took a tentative step forwards. "Master…" he said carefully, "please, just sit down."

The Master continued to pace, tapping out the drumbeat with ever more violent movements. His face pinched up in frustration. "No you sit down!" He snarled. The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "You're so good at avoiding confrontations, Doctor, so just sit there and shut up while I decide how to kill you."

The Master was becoming ever more worked up; more manic by the second, tapping his fingers so hard against his chest now that it was bruising. The Doctor hesitated. He did the only thing he could think of. He stepped forwards and grabbed his arm.

"Stop it." He muttered. The Master halted in his tracks, the physical contact seemed to act like an electric charge, making both men jolt, but the Doctor held his grip firm, watching the Master's confusion with a mixture of anxiousness and concern.

In the light of the moon streaming through the window, the Master and the Doctor looked at each other, standing as if frozen in time as the bodily contact sank in. The Master let a slow, irritated hiss of breath and snatched his arm away, walking to the window. The Doctor sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

"The drums." The taller Timelord said. It wasn't a question.

The Master's lip twitched upwards in a bitter smile. "Louder, and louder, and louder. Every day, until everything else is just background noise." He narrowed his eyes, frowning out at the sky. "What do they mean?"

The Doctor studied the Master's moonlit reflection. His throat constricted. "I wish I knew."

They fell into silence. The Doctor watched the Master carefully, waiting for this flash of calmness to end, and for the gloating to begin again. He stood against the wall, his fingers twitching where the two had connected. He frowned, pushing away the memories and the regret that leapt up with that touch. Everything was different now, he told himself. There was no going back.

Jack stared at the silent scene, watching the Doctor's unguarded emotions unfold across his face, betraying what he was normally so careful to keep hidden. As he watched, Jack realised that he was beginning to feel uneasy; nauseous about what he was seeing, and uncertain about what was to come.

"Isn't your wife wondering where you are?" the Doctor forced himself to say, keeping the Master's mind busy before he could fall back into another rage. The Master shrugged.

"Sweet little Lucy…" He smiled slyly. "She's sleeping."

The Doctor watched his expression carefully. "You mean you made her sleep."

The Master's smile widened. "She lets me. She does struggle so with insomnia," he pouted for a second, "poor thing."

"It's funny, I never had you down as the marrying type."

The Master's eyes moved towards the Doctor's reflection, still smiling grotesquely. "…I could say the same for you."

The Doctor felt the words like a knife in the stomach. It was a low blow, but he should have expected it. Nonetheless he refused to allow the Master to see the pain he'd caused. He averted his eyes, folding his arms across his chest defensively and glaring at the wall.

"And there he goes again, still running." Growled the Master. He turned to face the other Timelord. He strode across the room towards him and slammed a hand onto the wall beside his head. The Doctor still refused to make eye contact.

"…running from himself…" he hissed, "…running from his past…"

The Master grabbed his unshaven jaw, forcing the Doctor's face towards him. The Doctor seemed to draw back against the wall, glaring into the Master's hollow eyes as steadily as he could. His fingers twitched subconsciously against the panelled wall.

"…running from me."

It happened in an instant. Like a magnetic pull, the Doctor's eyes lidded, and he lunged forward into an unavoidable kiss.

Something like surprise flashed in the Master's dark, shadowed eyes, but he otherwise made no show of it. He clutched at the Doctor's jaw, forcing his head backwards against the wall, digging his fingers roughly into the skin. The Doctor closed his eyes tightly, clutching at the Master's shirt and pulling him instinctively closer.

He was therefore unable to see as the Master pushed himself forcefully forward and engulfed him in a bruising kiss, that a smirk of vindictive triumph was beginning to spread wide across his face.