Dedicated to the Mighty Noofle, who put up with my logic! ;)
I would just like to point out, that I am NOT a patient in a mental asylum, I just live in a room there with rubber wallpaper!
(If you don't know who Harry is, you need to read The Doctor Plus Coffee Equals Chaos, then it'll all make sense.)
I meant to post this yesterday, but I needed to go and collapse into bed, so sorry about that! Please don't kill me!
The helicopter blades whirred loudly above their heads. Martha gripped her harness tightly, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about what the Master had said, about the Doctor going to a better place.
She mentally shook herself. There was no point in worrying, they were on their way, and the Master's time was almost up. UNIT had taken measures to see to that, and as she looked around her, she was reassured by the presence of maybe 40 armed soldiers, and of course Jack too. There was also a medical team tucked into the corner; after seeing the state the Doctor was in, and watching him fall from the tree too, Martha and Jack had thought it best that they were able to administer medical attention on site.
The helicopter juddered roughly, apparently having a little difficulty with some turbulence, but no-one paid it any heed, everyone staring at the ceiling stonily. Jack, however, was staring at herm seemingly lost in thought, He blinked, and came back to the real world, his eyes meeting hers, before smiling encouragingly at her. His face may have said one thing, but his said something different. They spoke of his fear for the Doctor, his anxiousness and of the anger he was trying so desperately to hide.
Martha averted her gaze, focussing instead on her harness, but her mind was still elsewhere. The Master had the Doctor, he'd hurt him. Nothing else mattered. Whatever the Master had done to her friend, he would pay. He had no right, and only wanted revenge. The Doctor had been the Master's prisoner on the Valiant for a whole year, and had still emerged victorious, triumphing over the Master and saving the Earth again, he'd done it countless times before, and he would do it again.
The Master would fall, and they would prevail. They would rise to the challenge and beat the Master at his own game. Oh yes, the Master would pay. Martha's hands clenched tightly in to fists, squeezing the handles of her harness, her knuckles turning white.
The Master would never win, and Martha would make sure of it.
Jack was watching Martha. She'd slowly been getting angrier since the Doctor had been taken. Not to say that he didn't blame her, but he'd had a lot more practice, and was better at handling it as a result. To tell the truth, he was getting worried about her; her anger was just getting stronger and stronger, bubbling up inside her, and she was just bottling it all up, keeping it to herself. Martha was strong, that was why the Doctor chose her; but if she kept bottling up her anger, Jack wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep it in check, or if the bottle would break. Martha was strong, he reminded himself again, the strongest bottle of the lot, she wasn't going to break.
Then he saw her white knuckles, intent on strangling her harness, and the Master, and suddenly, he wasn't so sure.
The Doctor forced his eyes open, blinking to clear the fuzziness that surrounded him. Looking around, he saw that he was still in the warehouse, in fact, it was the same room as he was put in before. The Master must've dragged him in here after he'd fallen from the tree. Chains cut into his wrists and ankles, keeping him suspended, trapped between ceiling and floor. Tied up and down at the same time. Not good. He shivered as the cold air made contact with his bare chest. Tied up and down AND half naked too! Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be fun.
He breathed deeply, preparing himself, his breath rising in a mist before him and disappearing. The chains swung him slightly, swaying him from side to side. He was being stretched, he couldn't touch the floor, and the chains round his ankles prevented him from swinging more then an inch in any way. Basically he was stuck, well and truly.
He could see his long brown trench coat thrown unceremoniously onto the crates in the corner, his blood still staining most of it. Hopefully Harry was OK, the hamster lived in one of the pockets and was probably scared stiff.
Suddenly, the heavy metal door was flung open and the Master strolled in, as if a tiny piece of flimsy tin could've kept him out anyway!
He smiled at the Doctor, walking over until their noses were almost touching, holding his captive's face in his hands and caressing his cheek. The Doctor jerked his head back, wanting to be as far away from the Master as possible. Big mistake. The Master's eyes narrowed to slits.
"No, now my dear Doctor," He purred quietly, "I suggest you do what your Master wants. Otherwise I can't guarantee the safety of your friend."
"My friend?" The Doctor asked, his voice shaking, wondering who it was. Jack and Martha were on the way, he didn't really know anyone else other then Rose........ Rose. She was trapped on a parallel world, and he was never going to see her again. His hearts fell as he thought about her, but his face remained passive. Now was not the time for remembering lost friends
"Your friend" The Master confirmed, opening his jacket, and pulling out a quivering ball of fluff.
"Harry?!" The tiny hamster was shaking, frozen to the spot with fear, trapped on the Master's palm. "Harry run! Get away!" The Doctor urged the tiny animal. Harry looked up at him with wide black eyes, searching for reassurance. He didn't find any.
"Are you going to behave, Doctor?" The Master asked his prisoner, knowingly, squeezing the hamster just enough for him to emit a high pitched squeak of pain.
"Just let him go. He's done nothing to you. You've got me, and that's what you wanted. You don't need him." He tried to reason with the Master, hoping he'd see sense.
There was a pause.
"You're right, Doctor."The Master said, finally, still smiling knowingly at the Doctor "I don't need him" Then he balled his hand into a fist, almost crushing Harry in his strong fingers, the hamster screaming out in pain.
"Master!" The Doctor shouted, desperate to stop the Master from killing the mammal. "Please stop!" He begged.
"Am I your Master?" Came the reply, somehow even louder then Harry's cries. "Am I?" He bellowed.
Harry was getting quieter, and the Doctor couldn't bear the thought of the hamster dying.
"Yes!" He yelled. "Yes, you win! Just let him go!" The Doctor begged. Harry's screams ceased, the Master inspecting the fur ball in his now open hand. The hamster twitched, he was still alive. The Doctor sighed, relieved.
"Good boy." Praised the Master, condescendingly, "That wasn't too difficult now, was it?"
Then he flung Harry across the room and the hamster was lost to the darkness. They heard him crash heavily into the crates near the Doctor's coat, and then there was silence.
"Harry?" No reply. The Doctor glared at the Master. "We had a deal."
But the Master only chuckled. "I don't do deals with slaves. You aren't worthy of my word."
He leant forwards, his face so close to the Doctor's that he could see his face reflected in those deep brown eyes. The Doctor glared, wishing that Martha and Jack would hurry up so that he'd be able to recover and check on Harry. Physically, he knew that he couldn't stand up to the Master, not after what he'd done to him, but he could still fight a battle of wills.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" If he could keep him talking, maybe he could give the other time to arrive.
The Master was currently stalking around somewhere behind him, out of his field of vision, and making the Doctor feel very nervous.
There was a pause.
"I would've thought it obvious Doctor." Suddenly, the Doctor's hair was grabbed from behind, and his head torn backwards, his neck screaming in protest. He whimpered. "I want you to suffer. I want you to hurt. I want you to pay for every single time you've ruined my plans. I want-"
"Sorry. Can't pay you right now, I'm skint. I seem to have left my wallet in the other suit. I'll give you an IOU, but apart from that I can't really-"He was silenced by a painful blow to the head.
The Master carried on, undeterred.
"I want you to admit that I win, that the Master is your Master. " He paused, allowing emotion to slip into his voice. He began shouting loudly in the Doctor's ear, not caring about anything else. "I've always been better then you! Even when we were at the Academy together, you knew even then, following me around, thinking we were friends. You were pathetic then too, maybe even more so then you are now. "He snorted loudly" And I didn't even think that was possible. How wrong I was. Normally I don't like to admit that I've been wrong, but here I am doing exactly that, and happily too."
The Master paused, walking in front of the Doctor, studying him scrupulously, tilting his prisoner's head from side to side, much to the Doctor's discomfort. He moaned at his tormenter, trying to pull away, but failing in the Master's grip. Eventually he sagged, letting the Master examine him, though he didn't know why he was being examined in the first place.
"It's strange." He mused, still studying the Doctor's face. "Our people were always so peaceful. They abhorred violence, preferring to stand and watch as other species destroyed themselves through war after war after war. Time Lords always thought them so trivial, those races plagued by death, while even the most puny and worthless of creatures on Gallifrey managed to survive somehow. Then there was the Time War, and the Time Lords all died, taking all those other species with them. Now there are only two of us left. We could be gods; the power you and I possess is ours to command and conquer all other inferior races, rebuild the Universe in our image. Well.... Mine at least; you're too spineless to even attempt something like that."
"But why even contemplate "something like that"?"
"Because it's fun!" The Master laughed. "But you: You're too much of a coward to take what you would have, what's rightfully yours. I on the other hand-" He broke off as the Doctor laughed heartily. "Share the joke, Doctor?"
"You call me a coward..... but you were the one who ran from the Time War. You were the one who abandoned Gallifrey! You were the one who hid as a human, the species you despise most, for Rassilon knows how long-"
"You changed yourself because four insane stupid creatures wanted to consume you and live forever!" He paused again. "You could've killed them so easily, made them die horrible, painful deaths, but you chose to be kind, to run and hide like the coward you are. At least I had a good reason to change. I had a war, you had a few stalkers."
"I was being kind, because, unlike you, I don't relish killing others. I gave them a chance, they didn't take it. No second chances."
The Master laughed heartily.
"No second chances? What kind of philosophy is that? They could kill you with the first. Then where's that got you? Nowhere! 'Coz you're dead! I don't give anyone any chances at all; it's all so much simpler that way, look where I've got to: On top of the world, literally for one year, until you shot me down of course, my dear Doctor." He glared at the Doctor, but the latter shrugged off his enemies look.
"I led our people into battle in the Time War. I was there at the fall of Arcadia. I saw Davros' ship pulled into the jaws of the Nightmare Chid. I saw hundreds of my friends, family and colleagues fall into the dust, one after another after another, again and again." His voice was wavering now, cracked with emotion and unshed tears. "I saw them all die, and I couldn't do anything about it." Then his eyes hardened again. "And you just ran, while the rest of us fought. You ran away and abandoned us, abandoned your people, abandoned Gallifrey, and left us all to die."
"Don't you dare to talk like that to me!" The Master roared, some of his spit flying into the Doctor's face. "You said yourself that you led the battle." He calmed suddenly "Which means that it was al your fault."
"No"
"Yes it was and you know it! You failed to stop the Dalek's from being created. They found out. They declared war. You led us into battle! You let them all die! You ended the battle! You killed them all! You destroyed Gallifrey and left it to burn! You murdered everyone we knew! Everyone you loved, everyone who loved you. They're all dead! All because of you!" Another pause "It really is true what they say about you isn't it?" The Doctor shot him a questioning look. "The Destroyer of Worlds. The Oncoming Storm."
The Doctor bristled.
"It wasn't my fault. I didn't want to do it. The Dalek's couldn't win, it would've meant the deaths of the rest of the Universe, that's trillions and trillions of innocent people. Billions of worlds. All of them converted or turned into dust. It was Gallifrey or everyone else. I had to end it, and I was the only one who could. I was the only one to survive." He tailed off, staring at the floor, his eyes indicating that he was currently far, far away. The Master hit him to bring him back.
"It's still true though, isn't it? The Oncoming Storm, leaving a trail of death and destruction wherever he goes, and everything he touches seems to wither and die."
"You leave that out of this, it has nothing to do with anything!"
"If you'd just use it, you really could be a god! You could do anything you wanted! But here you are, surrounding yourself with humans." He spat the name out with disgust. "The frailest of all species, and so obsessed with killing and war, the very things our people despised most of all. Yet you've lost lives for this pathetic planet, haven't you Doctor?"
"Yes. And I'd do it all over again. I defend this planet because the Human race is so brilliant. They're so new to life, they've only just learnt to walk, and haven't even worked out how to teleport yet. They're so naive, that they still think that Tim Minchin and Eddie Izzard are human, no matter how many times I tell them. These people have so much potential, as a species, and they're barely out of the nursery. Granted there are a few rotten apples, but there are in every species, right? This species could do so much if they'd just think and do rather then kill. They could-"The Master hit him over the head again, silencing him.
"Don't you talk to me about potential!" He snarled, as the Doctor spat blood out onto the floor. "If anyone has potential, then it's us. The only two Time Lords left in the whole of Time itself! We could do so much; rule everywhere and every when! But no, you're too much like your precious humans, you think too small." He grabbed the Doctor's face again, pulling him down until they were nose to nose. "You disgust me." He walked away. "And now it's time for your verdict."
"Verdict?"
"I've just heard your story, now it's time for the jury to decide what happens to you."
"Jury?"
"Rassilon, is all you can do repeat what I've already said? Yes, Doctor, the jury is made of a select group who are specialised in thinking up lengthy and excruciatingly painful punishments for whomever they find guilty. They're over there." He waved an uncaring hand in the direction of a single chair over in the corner of the room. It was unmistakably, empty. "Unfortunately for you, I'm the only one who qualifies for the post, so I'll be filling the post of judge, jury, and executioner. Poor Doctor." He stood tall. "Now then, does the jury have a verdict?"
Quickly, he ran over to sit in the chair now dubbed as the bench, then he stood again. "Yes my Lord."
Now he was the judge again. "Does the jury find the defendant guilty, or not guilty of attempted genocide?"
Jury again now. "We find the defendant, guilty."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. Like he didn't know that had been coming.
The Master was back to normal, well, as normal as he was normally. If that made any sense at all.
"Well, I'm glad that's over. Such a pitiful practice, but it get's the job done, and it can be fun when you're in the firing line. Now your punishment can begin." The Master sounded far too cheerful for the Doctor's taste.
"And what exactly, is my punishment?"
"Many, many lifetimes of torturous suffering and pain, physician." The Master balled his hand into a fist. "And as the executioner, it is my duty to see your punishment carried out. And I'm only to happy to oblige." His eyes narrowed. "Your punishment starts....... wait for it...... now!"
The Doctor screwed up his eyes and waited for impact. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, seeing the Master smiling at him.
"Just kidding! Now!" His punch flew towards the Doctor's head.
20 minutes later, the sound of helicopter blades reached the Master's ears, and he stopped in his task. The Doctor hung barely conscious in his chains, his bare chest slick with bloods. He flopped limply as the Master let go, took a small machine out of his pocket and looked at the screen. A small blip on the radar indicated the whereabouts of the Doctor's "rescue team".
"Well Doctor, it appears it's time to move on. Time does fly when you're having fun, right?" Briskly walking over to his prisoner, he unlocked the chains and manacles with the Doctor's own Sonic Screwdriver. As soon as their support was gone, the Doctor fell, unresisting, into the Master's waiting arms, who gladly received him.
"Whoa there! Easy tiger! There'll be plenty of time for that!" Gently, he lowered the Doctor to the floor, watching with satisfaction as he lay still. Silently, he crept from the room and along the corridor, to yet another room, this time a little bigger then the last, and also, this one had a window. Granted it was broken, but it had been a window in a former life.
Sneaking a look out of said window, he saw the UNIT helicopter land, a huge cloud of dust billowing out from underneath. The rear doors opened, and a whole crowd of soldiers filed out, the Master counted 45 at a glance, then Harkness stepped out, followed by the Jones girl. After them came a team of medics. At least they'd thought ahead, not that it would help the Doctor now though. Time for phase 3.
Smiling, he sauntered back to his prize.
Martha hurried to catch up as Jack walked out of the helicopter with a sense of purpose. She looked up at the warehouse, trying to see any hint of Doctor-like life in it's dark windows.
"D'you think he's here?" She asked Jack, who was also looking around. Grimacing, he pointed to the now familiar 4x4 parked a few meters away.
"Oh yeah. He's here alright." Jack answered; making sure that Martha couldn't see the large ominous pool of blood staining the ground ion front of him. It didn't bode well for the Doctor. "C'mon. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we get him out, right?"
"Sure..." Came the unsure reply. Jack looked over at her, seeing worry in her eyes. Just to reassure her, he reached into his coat and pulled out his revolver, cocking it, preparing to shoot on short notice. He realised the Doctor would disapprove, but the Doctor wasn't in charge right now, and Jack didn't particularly like the alien who was.
Discreetly signalling to the soldiers, they entered the building. But not before Martha had seen the pool of blood on the dusty ground. Her eyes hardened, and she strode forward, after the soldiers who had already got the doors open and had flooded inside.
As they entered, they heard the distinct sound of someone being dragged through the thin floors above their heads. They charged upstairs, led by Jack and Martha. They recognised this part of the layout of the building, they'd seen it from the phone while the Master had been playing with the Doctor for his own amusement. Martha's blood still boiled at the memory.
Sounds were coming from a room ahead of them. They quickened their pace, desperate to help their friend in dire need.
"Come on Doctor, time to go home." Martha sped up again, as she heard the Master speaking, and as Jack rounded the final corner, his gun out in front of him. Martha skidded to halt beside him, looking into the cell.
Cell was the right word for it, no windows, one door, plain dark walls, and piles of crates at one end. The walls were riddled with damp, parts of them crumbling away; the floor too had been affected, covered in puddles of both rain water, and blood.
But Martha was looking at the two Time Lords in the centre. The Doctor was not in a good way. Shirtless, blooded, and barely conscious in the Master's arms. The Master lifted him up a little higher, one strong arm gripping the Doctor's bare bloody chest.
He smiled smugly. "You're too late. I would wish you luck...... But I won't!" He giggled, raising one of his hands, and one of the Doctor's too, waving at them. Then he dropped his raised hand, and slammed it down on Jack's Vortex Manipulator.
A harsh blue light enveloped them both, and then they were gone.
Jack sank to his knees, gun dropping to the floor, Martha running to where the Doctor's coat still lay on the crates, kneeling down next to it and crying, hugging the soft fabric to her chest, not caring for the blood.
A small squeak interrupted her, and Harry dragged himself onto her lap. The hamster didn't look good, his fur was all ruffled and out of place. And he was dragging two of his legs.
Martha hugged the tiny animal and the Doctor's coat, even as Jack knelt down behind her, he in turn hugging her close to him as she cried, rocking her backwards and forwards, burying his face in her shoulder.
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