Note: Next chapter is one I've been desperate to write. SOME ANSWERS ARE COMING! This scene was a bit heartbreaking to write, but as I said before: not all is as it seems. Hopefully things will start to become clear very soon.

Blog post is now up

Chapter 38

The Doctor didn't want to move. Moving meant facing up to his own actions; facing up to the Master after the other Timelord had seen a part of him that even the Doctor didn't want to admit existed, and he knew that as soon as one of them moved the brief moment's silence would be shattered. A new onslaught would begin. While he knew somehow that the immediate threat of death had passed, he was also horrifically aware of how close he'd come to something worse than death; something that the Timelord he could hear slowly regaining his breath had always been a terrible reminder of.

Given someone to protect; a cause to fight for or people to save, the Doctor had always been ready to jump into action without hesitation; but this had become a personal battle; one that had sprung up at him unexpectedly from the depths of his past, and he had never been very brave in the face of those.

The fear was threatening to turn to anger now, and it worried him. He was angry at himself, of course, but what truly worried him was that there was anger growing in the pit of his stomach directed at the other person in the room. He was growing angry with the Master; at the corner he'd backed him into.

For the first time in lifetimes; for the first time since long before the Time War, he was angry at the Master on a completely personal level – the only other Timelord in existence, and the only person in the whole of space and time that the Doctor knew he had no right at all to be angry with.

The Master's chest had stopped heaving. The Doctor lowered his legs back to the floor and removed his hands, pulling back from his shoulder before the other Timelord could recover enough to speak. The Master reacted to the move by pulling away from the Doctor's neck. His hand slid away from his back and he stood upright, opening his eyes as they pulled away from each other. The Doctor clenched his jaw as those dark eyes met his, looking into them knowingly.

The Master's mouth moved into the shadow of a sinister smirk. After a moment he raised a finger to his bitten lower lip, swept across it and then glanced down. The dark speck of blood looked almost black in the harsh light. He snorted.

"See?" he hissed, eyes flickering back upwards to the Doctor. His neck arched forwards, leaning in almost conspiratorially as a vicious snarl returned to his face. A tongue darted out against his broken lip. "I win."

The Doctor's stomach clenched. The anger he was trying to keep so desperately at bay suddenly darted upwards. He slammed his hands into the Master's chest and shoved him backwards. The Master staggered at the sudden force behind the push, but he didn't retaliate. He looked into the Doctor's glaring face and began to laugh, his teeth on show as his eyes wrinkled. He raised the back of his hand to his bleeding lip.

"Oh has he gone already?" The Master laughed. The sound set the Doctor's teeth on edge. He pulled himself painfully away from the wall, keeping his eyes on the other Timelord as he put a little more distance between them. He was trying desperately to keep his anger in check. Anger was of no use here, it could only aggravate the situation. "I was hoping for something a bit more dramatic than that." The laughter faded from the Master's face and his lip curled in disgust. He leaned down to snatch up his trousers and jacket from where they'd slid to the floor, eyes flickering contemptuously over the other Timelord. "Ever the disappointment."

The Doctor's entire body felt on the verge of collapse. After everything he'd been through today – from being handcuffed to the bridge of the Valiant, to… what had just happened - he was fiercely exhausted. His legs were threatening to give way, but he stood upright despite it. He was fighting off anger, fear, and his own vast share of disappointment: The Master was no longer full of that violent fury that had appeared with the screwdriver, but in some ways this was worse. It was more personal.

He tried to remember the advice he had given to Tish that very morning, although it seemed a lifetime ago: don't give the Master ammunition. The Master was more than capable of lashing out with physical violence given the right prompt, but it was now the mental attacks that worried him: Opening his mouth, giving in to temptation could place him in danger of losing himself, and via him Martha, the Earth, the Master himself, and the entire universe could lose their only chance of survival.

The Master began to dress, his eyes still planted contemptuously on the Doctor as the taller Timelord stood motionless in the middle of the room. He shrugged on his jacket over the ripped shirt, covering up the dark bite mark on his neck.

"No?" An eyebrow twitched upwards. The Doctor's fists clenched. "Are we sulking, or did you lose your voice?" He snorted, turning his back dismissively as he made his way, swaggering arrogantly towards the door. "You were ridiculously loud-"

"Why do I get under your skin so much?"

The Doctor heard his own voice as if from a distance, and it made him panic. The words had come out in an angry snarl, and his teeth had bared once more. The Master paused at the open door.

The shorter Timelord seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, his back still turned. The Doctor felt his hearts thundering for what felt like the millionth time today. After what had happened on the bridge, what he had just said could be a death sentence.

But the Master's mood had obviously changed since then. He suddenly tilted his head back and laughed derogatively, resting his hand against the doorframe. "Is that what you think this is?"

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes full of dark amusement as they settled on the Doctor. He pouted patronisingly, brow furrowing. "Oh bless him."

The Doctor's stomach felt as though it was writhing. He was shaking through exhaustion, his chest heaving in anger as the Master's hand slid away from the doorframe. He turned and made his way back across the room, that patronising pout still on his face as he came close. The Doctor stood still. He didn't dare to move. Not because of what the Master might do, but because of what he himself might.

The Master leaned in close, still pouting, and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Doctor." He intoned quietly. "…Sweetheart." And then the pout fell from his face. His eyes narrowed and he leaned in even closer, his hand still on the Doctor's cheek as his voice lowered to a growl. "The only reason you're still alive is because I like watching you squirm."

The words hung in the air, settling over the Doctor like a storm cloud. His frown grew darker, and he stared into the other Timelord's face as a convoluted mixture of anger and grief fought for first place in his chest.

The Master's eyes suddenly flickered oddly as he looked at the expression on the Doctor's face. His jaw muscles quivered. A strange snarl twitched its way across his mouth and he suddenly snapped both hands up to the Doctor's head. He pulled him forwards, planting a furious kiss on his forehead, and then turned his back once more, walking quickly from the room without a backwards glance.

The Doctor stood alone in the blank white room as the door closed silently. He stared at it, his eyes wide and his brows low as his chest heaved under the weight of the emotions now twisting inside him. A moment passed in silence, and then suddenly he lunged forwards with his teeth bared in fury. He grabbed the chest of drawers that stood by the now closed door and wrenched it forwards. It fell onto the carpet with a deafening crash, but the noise of it was almost drowned into nothing by the sudden, furious roar that tore its way from the Doctor's heaving chest.

The sound sent a horrific shudder down Jack's spine. He'd never heard rage like it from the Doctor, and it was almost a relief when the image before him began to dim, the sound still ringing in his ears as the space around faded to black. His heart felt as though he had been running for miles after what he had just witnessed, and he now felt even more confused by the situation than ever.

He turned towards the Doctor and opened his mouth, ready with a question, but the Timelord was already far away from him, his back turned as he strode unnaturally swiftly towards the Tardis doors.