Note: Short one (sorry about that) and probably the last one for a little while (sorry about that, too) but in the meantime let me know how I'm doing? Reviews are wonderful things for a writer, they really are.

Aaaand the blog post is up.

Chapter 41

The Doctor's mind was racing. Just staring down at the glinting silver and blue was giving him an even larger headache than the one he already had. His screwdriver. It seemed bizarre. The last time he'd seen it had been all those months ago when the Master had taken control. He'd thought it had been destroyed. It never occurred to him that he would see it again quite like this.

He took a tentative step forwards, as if approaching a dangerous animal. Lucy's expression; the way she had hurried away from the room suddenly made sense. He slid to one knee, reaching out a hand to rest on the carpet beside it. The Master had taken such unusual care to make sure he couldn't pose a threat, yet lying on the carpet of this perfectly contained room was the one thing that could possibly make the Doctor dangerous, and as much as he wanted to touch – to reclaim some small part of what the Master had taken away from him – there were far too many things to take into consideration before he made that decision.

"Is it just me, or do you look a little less excited to see that thing than you should be?"

The Doctor heard the discomfort in Jack's voice. He glanced over, and as expected he saw him fold his arms across his chest, an almost uneasy look on his face. The Timelord shook his head. "It's not what you think." He said, forgiving Jack for the misunderstanding. "Believe me, I wanted to get out of that room as much as the Master wanted to keep me in it."

"Then…" Jack shrugged. "Why the hold up?"

The Doctor looked down at his previous self and sighed. "Because this was never about what I wanted." He muttered. "She didn't know it, but by giving me that screwdriver, Lucy had just put everything I'd been working towards in danger."

Jack took another look at the Doctor kneeling on the floor. He could see the consternation on the Timelord's face. A long time ago, before he'd met the Doctor, he never would have understood the hesitation, but now he knew very well how it felt to be responsible for the lives of others – even if he had failed miserably in his own attempt. "It was too much of a risk. If you took the gamble and you weren't fast enough-"

"Then the entire universe was going to burn because of my mistake."

Jack sighed silently. He had to admit that being freed five months early would have been a huge relief, but the Doctor was playing for more than freedom here. He couldn't imagine the kind of strength it must have taken to think that carefully after so long in solitude.

"So… what did you do with it?"

The Doctor smiled coldly. "No, you still don't understand. Lucy forced my hand." He spread a palm out towards the scene before them. "If I'd kept the screwdriver the Master would have found it sooner or later, and he would have known how it got there."

Jack couldn't see the problem here. As callous as it seemed, compared to the survival of the universe, Lucy's seemed unimportant. "So?"

He knew immediately he'd said the wrong thing. The Doctor glared at him deeply, and as always Jack felt like he was a child being reproved by a disapproving old man. "Oh you might refuse to go back, but that's still Torchwood coming out of your mouth." He said sharply. "Lucy wasn't evil, Jack. Whatever else she was… whatever else she became," his voice lowered to a mutter for a moment, then rose again, "she was still human."

The Doctor had a strange way of looking at things. He always had, but this was the first time Jack had been close enough to understand just how complex the Timelord was. After the way this year had ended, and after realising just what had happened between the Master and the Doctor in the meantime, it was incomprehensible to him that the Doctor could feel any sympathy for her at all. If it had been him, he would have been willing to sacrifice one person to ensure the survival of so many others, but he supposed that if the Doctor ever thought that way, he wouldn't be the Doctor.

"Giving me that screwdriver was a cry for help. A confused one, but in the end that's what it was." Continued the Timelord, apparently oblivious to Jack's confusion. He turned back to his previous self, who was still considering the screwdriver like a dangerous animal. Jack's Doctor moved closer to the scene, staring intently at it. "…And I made a promise to myself a very long time ago," he said, his voice deep and almost reverent in the silence, "never to ignore a cry for help."

The Doctor raised his hand from the carpet, letting his fingers hover a few inches above the screwdriver as the thoughts in his head spiralled slowly towards their conclusion. Lucy aside, if the Master found the screwdriver he would wonder why the Doctor hadn't attempted to use it. That could lead anywhere - from killing him out of paranoia, to thinking more carefully about what Martha might be doing. Both events were something he couldn't afford to happen. No, all things considered, there was only one option. He clenched his jaw, took in a deep breath, and his face set into a determined frown as he finally made the decision.

He snatched up the screwdriver, feeling the coldness of it against his fingers. It felt like holding an old friend, but he had no time to savour the sensation now. He raised himself up from his knee and moved swiftly to the door. With nothing else to do, he'd long ago worked out the technical details of his imprisonment, and he knew how to break it, given the right tool.

The screwdriver purred quietly as the Doctor slid it against the doorframe, the light of it almost blinding him in the near darkness. As expected, the door slid open a few seconds later, the cold air of the night outside filtering down the corridors of the Valiant. This time the Doctor was sure it was safe to walk through. His biggest fear had been that the Master would have deadlocked the system, but apparently the other Timelord was still as overconfident in his abilities as ever. That was one thing that had never changed.

He lowered the screwdriver slowly and stared out into the darkness beyond, standing on the threshold of the room that – for the last five months – had become his entire world. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice. Once he crossed it, he knew the decision would be made, for good or bad.

The Doctor clenched his fists and took the fatal step out into darkness. Adrenaline and anxiety came to him as he looked around at the abandoned corridoors. Finally he and the Master were on fairly even ground, and he had the element of surprise. It gave him a chance.

He turned and made his way swiftly and silently down the corridor. He knew where he was going, and if he could make it there fast enough he could spare everyone any more pain. The Master would never even know it had happened until it was all over.

One way or another, this was going to end. Today.