*This is not an A/N. The author was too ashamed of the long wait to put one in. But she hopes that you'll enjoy reading it and you can leave your message after the beep* (Beep)
The corridor was in complete darkness. The Doctor clung to the doorframe, balancing precariously on his uninjured leg, looking for any sign that trouble was approaching. There was only silence. His leg felt as though it was on fire, ad the rest of him still hurt too. He hopped forward, dragging his leg behind him. Then he listened again. Nothing.
This was his chance. He pressed on, expecting to feel a strong grip on his shoulder at any moment. He was reminded horribly of another foreboding corridor, seeming impossibly far away now. The cooling tunnels on the Parallel world with Angela Price, or as he had known her then: Mrs. Moore. That corridor had been dark and cold too, and dangerous as well. Surrounded by Cybermen, knowing the Master was near, he couldn't quite decide which situation he preferred. But which ever he preferred, this was the one he was in, and he was stuck with it.
He had to stay calm, he thought, breathing deeply. He was going to be fine. Of course he was going to be fine, he was the Doctor, he was always fine, even if he wasn't. And anyway, even if he really wasn't fine, he could always be alright. And he had Martha and Jack helping him, plus UNIT and all of their gadgets and gizmo's. He though for a moment if he should suggest they did a scan for alien tech, but Jack was there, and he knew that he'd never hear the end of it if he heard.
If it had been just Martha then he might have done, but having a past companion there who was forever teasing him about his lack of simple solutions convinced him otherwise, so he pushed that thought firmly to the back of his mind and promptly forgot about it. They were going to find him anyway. It was worth waiting a bit longer to be found if it kept his sense of pride intact. He was getting away anyway, and he could try to shield himself from the Master.
Everything was going to be fine.
Voices were coming from the phone in his hand. It was Martha, urging him on again. Though he would probably never admit it, he was glad she was there; a voice of kindness amongst a sea of malice and hatred. Good ol' Martha, keeping him going, showing him the right way, helping him crack the crossword puzzle he'd been stuck on, keeping his fingers out of the cookie jar... Well, actually she had caught him with his fingers in a jar of Marmalade on numerous occasions and chased him until they both collapsed with laughter.
That joke had lasted for days, in fact, they'd laughed about it only yesterday. Now he was skulking down a corridor with no idea where he was, or how he was going to get away. He really shouldn't be thinking about things like that at a time like this. Martha was talking to him again. He was slowly making progress, but it was hard work, and painful. His leg was causing him agony every time he hopped forward. He knew he was probably leaving a trail of blood which could easily be followed, but he didn't care and was trying not to think about it. He was getting there, he was getting there, he was going to get there.
"Oh Doctor?! Where are you?" The Master's voice echoed loudly in the dark corridors. The Doctor froze, hearing both the Master and the gasps from the UNIT control room. The Master was behind him, he was sure of it.
"Doctor?" Martha whispered to him, fearfully. "Doctor, where is he?" The Doctor didn't reply, he had completely frozen, and was starting to shake, but he was trying to hide it. He shakily turned his head to look over his shoulder, making sure that the camera couldn't see anything. His vision was slightly blurry, and he had the overwhelming feeling that he should give up before he really made things bad for himself, but he squashed that thought. The corridor was still and dark; and lifeless. The Master wasn't there, he still had a chance. Trying to pick up the pace, he turned and hobbled away, clutching the phone tightly to his chest.
The Master was happy. That in itself would never be a good for anyone else, but it was very good for him. What surprised him was that it was the Doctor that was making him happy. Normally, if the Doctor was around, then the Master would grumpy, irritable and manic, because, even if he hoped he was wrong, he knew his time was almost certainly up. But now, he was whistling as he skipped down the dark corridor, all because the Doctor existed, and was very, very near.
It had only just sunk in that he had done it, that where so many species in so many Galaxies had failed, he had succeeded. He had done what most species would give all of another person's organs to have the Doctor in their grasp, and he'd only had to kidnap him, and no surgery was needed, and now he had the Doctor at his mercy. But then he remembered that he didn't actually have any mercy.
The Doctor could not escape. , it was completely illogical and would only cause him unnecessary pain. The again, no pain the Doctor experienced would ever be unnecessary, he deserved every bit he was dealt, whether it was dealt by the Master or not. He would deserve every little pinprick, every scratch, every broken limb. He would deserve it if his body were forced to tear itself apart. Ooooh. That was quite good. He'd have to think about that.
But now he had more important matters to attend to. He was almost certain that the Doctor's pets couldn't find them, and it was well known throughout the Galaxies that the Doctor never carried any kind of communications device, so he had no hope of communicating getting through to anyone. And he was out cold anyway, the Master had seen to that himself. Everything was going so well.
He came to an abrupt halt. The Doctor's cell was just down the corridor, and the Master was standing at a junction in the corridor, just a few meters from the heavy door. There was noise coming from it. That shouldn't happen. He leant on the wall, inclining his head to try to identify the offending object, feeling the reassuring coldness of the IAC in his pocket.
The Doctor was murmuring, groaning in pain, dragging himself across the dirty floor. It was the Doctor who was making all the noise. Granted, if the person listening didn't have the keen hearing of a Time Lord, they wouldn't be able to hear it, but to the Master, superior as he was, it was obvious that he was moving around.
"Ouch........... You planning on getting here any time soon?" Who was the Doctor talking to, and how was he talking to them in the first place? This was going to make things interesting. For a while anyway. Time to have some fun. He started walking again, this time making his footfalls sound loud and clear, but not as though it was on purpose. He'd play along for a while; he'd play the Doctor's game. The Doctor got the obviously message, and the Master heard him groan "Not again!" and suddenly fall silent.
Opening the door and looking inside, the Master had to fight the urge to start yelling that his game was up, but forced himself to stay calm, allowing himself to chuckle childishly. The Doctor had moved a few feet from where the Master had left him, and was apparently trying to appear unconscious. He would have been convincing, if the Master had not been the Master, which the Master was, and, to the Master, it was a very obvious attempt at fooling him, which it was, and if the Master had not been the Master, which the Master was, he may well have been fooled. But the Master was the Master, and therefore, was not to be deceived by such futile actions. (I COULD HAVE CARRIED ON LIKE THAT FOREVER, BUT I CONFUSED MYSELF, SO NEVER MIND THAT SENTANCE.)
Squinting around, the Master peered into the darkness that was the Doctor's cell, trying to see how the Doctor was communicating with his pets. Then he saw it. The tiny light, right up against the wall, linking him to the outside world. A phone? Why the Hell did he have a phone? Had he lost his mind, or was it that he'd bought a mind second-hand? Evidently not, or he'd have used the power at his disposal for something more then just being an obedient slave to the whole of the Human race, and would have ruled over them instead. He wouldn't have sealed it away, never to see the light of day.
Soon the Doctor wouldn't have that handy little device any more, when he moved onto stage three, then it would all be over. The Master giggled as he considered the next part of the game. He had already taken the King, but the game was still going. The Queen was still fighting and the Bishop..... No, he most defiantly was not a bishop, he'd have to be a Rook instead, would Handsome Jack. Well anyway, they were still going to keep going, and they had UNIT playing the part of the Pawns now, he'd thwarted their futile attempts to access their satellites himself.
He shut the door again, and was going to lock it again, when he suddenly he stopped himself. Why should he deny the Doctor one last glimpse of hope? He walked down the corridor again, back to where he'd first heard the Doctor apparently talking to himself, without locking the door, then hid in the shadows.
It would only be a matter of time. And he was right. It didn't take long for the door to open and the Doctor to come limping out, clinging to the doorframe as though his life depended on it. The Doctor looked around him, as if he suspected the Master had left the door open on purpose, clutching at the phone in his hand. Foolish idiot. It took all the Master's self control not to leap out at him, but he kept himself quiet, pressed into the darkness. A few seconds passed, and he pressed on, keeping a few feet behind the Doctor. This was too easy. The Doctor was walking so slowly, having to hold himself up using the surrounding walls that a snail could've over taken him.
As quietly as possible, he took the IAC out of his pocket and slipped it onto his hand. The lights on it glowed brightly and started flashing, delighted to be able to exert its power again. The Master shushed it and the lights dimmed, they didn't want the Doctor knowing he was being followed. Or did they? He smirked. Pointing the IAC at the Doctor's head, he slowly began pressing at the sides of the Doctor's mind, not much, just enough to influence him. Increasing the power slightly, he allowed himself access to the surface of his consciousness, without the Doctor even realising he was there. He sent a powerful urge into the Doctor, to give up, to save himself from the pain that would come if he was caught, and was delighted when the Doctor instantly squashed it and sent it to the back of his mind, where it was immediately forgotten. That was good, the Master liked to prolong the hunt, prolong his victim's suffering.
"Oh Doctor?! Where are you?" He called, making his voice sound far off and echoey. The Doctor stopped dead, shaking slightly. He turned his head to look back at the way he'd come, straight at the Master. Luckily, the IAC still had a hold on his mind, and the Master made sure that even if he'd stood right in front of the Doctor, he wouldn't have known he was there even if he'd hit him in the face. Just a little bit of blurry vision should do it. The Doctor looked right at him, his eyes almost scarily glazed and unfocused, looking through him, unseeing. The Doctor sighed in relief, and continued along, picking up his pace a bit, so now the snails would have to jog to overtake him. The IAC was planting ideas in his head, the right way to go, to get to the outside, but not to show the camera anything that was happening, that way it would take them just that little bit longer to find him.
Corridor after corridor came and went, and the Master had to admit, he admired the Doctor's spirit. He just kept going, on and on. The Master had increased the amount of pain his leg was dealing him, but apart from slowing him down a bit, the Doctor appeared to shrug it off. Sweat was pouring down the Doctor's brow, and he was starting to groan with every movement, something which those on the phone had obviously picked up.
The Master could hear voices coming from the small device, urging him on. However fun it was to see the Doctor in pain, the whole "follow him 'till he gets out" was getting a bit old. The Master wanted to have some more fun, fun that only the Doctor could give him. It was time for action. Tiptoeing right up behind the Doctor's back and pointing the IAC at his head again, the Master closed his eyes, concentrating hard on the other Time Lord's thoughts.
The Doctor suddenly went rigid, the phone still clutched tightly to his chest, his glazed eyes wide and staring. The girl's voice came through the phone, asking what was wrong, sounding very worried, and rightly so. The Master pushed his thoughts in front of the Doctor's, momentarily taking control. You need to get out. He could come and get you any minute. Hurry up! That should do it. The Doctor never took that much persuading. But he had to take care of the girl.
"I'm fine. It's nothing." The Master said through the Doctor's mouth. That should shut her up. The Doctor was re-surfacing again, and quickly. The Master retreated from his mind a way, so he still had a hold, but the Doctor couldn't detect him. The moment the Doctor had control of his body again, he swayed dangerously, almost falling onto the Master, who had to jump back to avoid his wildly flailing arm, the one still clutching at the phone. He ducked quickly, dropping to a press-up position on the floor to avoid the camera, the IAC making a nasty clanging sound as it made contact with the cold concrete.
They didn't see him. Quietly as he could, he stood up again, watching as the Doctor stood, clutching at his head, moaning in pain. Then it seemed that the thought the Master placed in his head suddenly began to take effect. The Doctor hurried up, rushing towards the door at the end of the corridor, the last one before he was "free".
The Doctor swayed on his feet, suddenly feeling very dizzy. He was falling; he waved the arm that wasn't attached to the nearest wall manically, trying to keep his balance. What was that? Clutching at his head, he tried to remember, but his mind was blank, and strangely unresponsive, almost like it was sleeping, or sleepwalking.... Oh well. It was probably nothing. He could smell freedom. That door just up there, seeming impossibly far away, even though it could only be a few meters. Freedom. He stood up as straight as he could as a powerful thought came to mind. You need to get out. He could come and get me any minute. Hurry up! At least one part of his mind was working, even if the thought sounded strangely forced. He was almost there, another few steps and he would be free. He really should give up now though..... Huh? Where'd that thought come from. Something wasn't right. What was it?
Now that he thought about it, there was a lot of weird things happening with his head. Blurry vision, sudden headaches, dizziness, forced thoughts...... That was it! Forced thoughts! Those thoughts weren't his own! Someone was putting them inside his mind, and he didn't even need half a guess as to who it was. He shook his head violently, clutching at his temples, forcing those foreign thoughts away. Martha was gasping on the other end of the line, watching as he started smashing his head against the wall, trying to break the Master's hold on him.
He was winning. But the Master wasn't going to give up so easily. He heard him swearing in Gallifrean close behind him, realising that the Doctor was breaking free. The Master leapt onto him, pinning him to the wall, trying to reach the Doctor's head. He still had IAC, the Doctor knew, that meant that if he let the Master get to him, there was no way that he'd be able to break free again. Jack was swearing over the phone, yelling at the Master, and threatening him with most of the curses under quite a few Sun's. The Doctor cried out as the Master latched onto his hair, pulling his head back, trying to get a grip on his thoughts.
The Doctor pushed out, tripping the Master up and pushing him over and away. The Master fell, and the Doctor jumped over him, running for the exit as well as he could with only one leg. Rain fell on the outside of the door as the Doctor reached it, grasping the handle down and rushing out into the day. Drops of water fell onto his face and hair and down his shirt, soaking him immediately.
But there wasn't time to stop. He rushed on anyway, heading into a small wood ahead of him. He slipped on the slimy mud beneath his good foot but managed to stay upright, somehow. He supposed that hanging around with Olympic gymnastic champions must've taught him something after all.
He couldn't get away, he realised as the trees closed in around him, but maybe he could hide until he was picked up. The trees grew so tall that they offered a little protection from the rain, but not much. He darted around the different trunks, trying to locate a suitable place to ride out the bad situations that had arisen. He looked to the phone in his hand, seeing everyone staring at his face, pleading with everything around them to keep him safe.
"Sorry" He said, before slipping the phone out of his hand.
Martha gasped as the phone slipped form the Doctor's hand and fell down, down, down, the surrounding's getting darker and darker until they could only see complete darkness. The camera juddered as it obviously hit the bottom. Martha jumped up, alarmed.
"What'd he do? Where's he gone? Where's the phone?" She was almost hysterical. She'd almost had to have been sedated when the Master attacked the Doctor in the corridor, but she'd given everyone such a look that she'd even scared Magumbo off.
Jack jumped up and held her by the shoulders, trying to keep her calm.
"It appears" he said gently "that we're inside the Doctor's pocket. My God how much stuff does that alien keep in there?"
The world out of the screen was suddenly turned upside down, and then a series of alarming angles as the Doctor apparently tried to get into a confined space in a tree trunk or something. They could hear him groaning in pain and discomfort every few seconds as his leg caused him strife. He could deal with it. As Jack said, he's been in worse scrapes then this and he almost always came out smiling.
This continued for a few minutes, before it suddenly stopped, and all that could be heard was the Doctor's heavy breathing. A hand suddenly appeared out of no-where and grabbed at them, the dirty fingers closing around them and lifting them up out of the darkness. The Doctor's face greeted them, trying to smile but failing miserably, before finally seeming to give up the ghost almost entirely, closing his eyes and laying his head down on his arms, which he was laying down on, and under that was.. a branch? That was when they noticed that the world outside the camera seemed a lot further away then it had before they had plunged into his pocket. He had climbed a tree? It seemed logical. The rain was still falling heavily, but the Doctor seemed to pay it no heed, letting it fall onto him. He looked exhausted, breathing deeply as if trying to control his pain.
"Where's my lickle Doctie-Wocktie?" The Master called mockingly, and the Doctor stiffened, slowly raising his head to look down at the world below. The Master skipped through the fallen leaves, chuckling happily as though on an Easter-Egg hunt. He kept calling. "You can't hide forever you know! I'll find you! You'll come crawling back to me, like the dog you are Doctor!" But soon he moved off, skipping away among the trunks and his mocking calls faded away. The Doctor visibly relaxed, laying his head on his hands again.
Back in the control room, everyone jumped as a machine behind them bleeped noisily. Jack rushed over to it, and a wide smile spread across his face.
"Doc! We've got you! You're exactly 45.7 miles west of London!" He ran up to the screen, the Doctor was looking at them, looking pleased, but completely exhausted. He smiled, properly this time, then let his head drop onto his arm again, eyes closed.
For a few seconds anyway.
The next second, the Doctor had gone rigid again, as the Master's hands appeared again and clamped onto his temples, gaining full access to the Doctor's mind. His eyes widened in pain and shock, his breath catching in his chest as the Master took control. Martha screamed in anger and horror as the phone dropped from the Doctor's nerveless fingers and fell to the forest floor below. They saw as the Doctor dropped from the branch like a stone and landed heavily next to them, unmoving again.
The Master appeared beside them, bent down, and picked them up, smiling cheerily at them.
"You really think you can stop me?" He gloated "I am far superior to all of you stupid, pathetic little apes."
"We're coming Master!" Martha shouted, having to be physically restrained to stop her from striking the screen. "We'll get there soon, and we'll get him back and sort you out. D'you hear me?!" she screamed.
The Master laughed.
"Whatever you say. But I'm about to see to it that he'll never see you again, of course, if that's alright with him." He glanced over at the Doctor, who still lay where he had fallen. "Well, he doesn't seem to mind very much, probably glad to be rid of you, I'd say. I don't know how he stands the sight of your species, I really don't. Goodbye." He finished, smiling. Then he crushed the phone in his fingers.
Jack and Martha ran to the door.
"What're we waiting for? Let's go already?" Jack yelled to Magumbo. Less then a minute later, they were in the helicopter and speeding towards the Doctor.
By the way, I've got a little poll for all you peeps out there still reading this stuff: Who out there can find a FanFiction profile that's longer then mine? If so, whose is it? I need to congratulate them. If you have a look at my profile you'll see what I mean, and while you're there, you can check out all my other fic's, they're under the section: My stories, right at the top. Have a look and tell me what you think?
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