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Alone…cold…The Doctor could feel the rough wet stone beneath his cheek, the rough grit and dirt underneath his fingernails as they clawed futilely at the floor. The ever present darkness and oppressive feeling of being watched, of knowing that he wasn't alone, of the dread pooling in his gut that the only thing worse than being left alone in the dark was not being left there alone…
Then the door to his cell opened…
Gasping for breath The Doctor reared up and almost hit his head against the underside of the Tardis control, the familiar surroundings and concerned flutter of his Tardis in the back of his mind had him choking with relief. It hadn't been real…it was just a dream…just a nightmare.
Yet as he fell back against the grating of the Tardis The Doctor felt himself shiver as the pervading sense of dread continued to linger. It had felt so real, the texture of the rough wet gritty floor under his fingertips, the wet pervading cold that caused his limbs to shiver in sympathetic memory; almost too real.
An echo…a psychic imprint…a memory?
Each possibility had its own terrifying consequences and The Doctor clenched his fists as he tried to regain control of his wildly beating hearts. What was wrong with him? He was trembling like a child tormented by a childhood fear, the monster in the wardrobe, the person hiding under you bed…
He wanted it to just be a dream, a terrible lucid dream brought on by his recent trauma and he certainly had plenty to choose from and as if mirroring the direction of his thoughts the Tardis control board sparked, reminding The Doctor of his uncontrolled fit of rage.
She had lied.
Why he had ever allowed himself to believe Missy was capable of telling the truth even in the face of death was the true mystery. The Master wasn't capable of honesty or generosity…and yet…
She had pulled the trigger; she had committed suicide and had spared him the terrible burden of being The Doctor who killed. Even now he could remember the warmth of her lips against his own, her last mental caress, the fondness even in her chastisement…
Silly boy
And he was a fool, a fool to continue to follow her merry dance, to allow himself to hope each time that this time it might different, that she might be different, that he might not have to keep suffering the loss of once again being the last of his kind, at least the last not lost in another dimension. Every time to feel the sharp needles of her nails ripping at a scar that had barely scabbed over, of exorcizing the wound and causing fresh blood to flow into his tormented soul.
Gallifrey was lost, The Master was dead, another companion had left him, he was alone again.
The concerned trill of the Tardis dragged him back from his morose brooding place and The Doctor dragged himself back to his feet his fingers tightening on the control panel as he struggled to find his balance for a moment. Looking down at the damage he had thoughtless wrought in his rage and grief The Doctor could only curse his own stupidity.
Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his sonic, the blue light still blinking as the little device continued to process and work on something. Frowning in confusion The Doctor stared down dumbly at the screwdriver before the memory came back to him. Missy….He had scanned her before…
His gaze fell to the palm device that sat on the Tardis control still where he had abandoned it. The innocent looking and yet deadly item that he had refused to leave behind much to UNIT's displeasure. As much as he trusted Kate to do what was best for Earth that did not include handing over timelord technology for Earth's scientists to pick apart.
Brushing aside the fragments of metal and wires The Doctor synced his screwdriver with the Tardis mainframe, frowning as the downloaded data readings began to flicker across the cracked screen. Rubbing his palm across his face The Doctor blinked his eyes unable to believe what he was reading, his thick grey eyebrows meeting at a point as he frowned down into the display. A telepathic signal, a carrier wave directed at what quickly became apparent was some sort of implant that had somehow missed in his initial scans.
The body scan was conclusive even if The Doctor clinically avoided lingering on the mocking drumbeats of the simulation's hearts. He watched as the implant clinically began overriding the natural electrical impulses that controlled The Master's body, the technical representation of jamming signals that caused the glands in her throat to swell blocking the primary respiratory pathway, then the muscle spasm that locked open the secondary. Then other signals that caused her body to begin to process enzymes, slowly increasing the level toxicity in her blood.
It was a slow terrifying way to die, having your own body turned into the weapon that kills you, no wonder Missy chose the option of disintegration.
Still that only answered the questions of how, those of why and who were far more pressing and as The Doctor fed the echo of the carrier wave into the navcomputer he resolved to find those answers. Somewhere out there was an enemy with the ability to control timelord physiology and that was an enemy he couldn't afford to ignore.
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