Chapter 15

"No fair!"

"Hmm?" mumbled the Master.

"Why do you get to be ginger? It's like everyone gets to be ginger except for me! Even your TARDIS is red."

"Mhhm."

"Doctor, is he okay?" asked Amy.

"Yeah, regeneration just takes a lot out of us. Sometimes I sleep for a day or two, sometimes I get all sorts of weird food cravings."

"Whhd," said the Master, and forced himself to sit up and open his eyes. "What'dja do?" he slurred.

"I didn't do anything. You regenerated."

"Don't lie. How much did you give up?"

The Doctor suddenly realized that nothing less than total honesty could salvage their tremulous relationship. "Half. Well, approximately half. One of us has about fifty-one percent, the other has forty nine. I don't know who has which, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

The Master was gradually returning to full consciousness, and he found it blessedly quiet. He took a moment to grow accustomed the unusual sensation, then said, "Why'd you do it?"

"Neither of us has to be alone, if we've got each other."

"You are such an idiot."

"I have considered that I may be out of my depths with you. At school, you were always the better student, effortlessly. So, yes, maybe I am an idiot compared to you, but I thrive on challenge. Despite what you may think, I like you tremendously."

"You shouldn't. I'm not worth it."

The Doctor whirled on him and yelled, "You don't get to decide your own worth, and you don't get to tell me how I should feel!"

The Master flinched, and his face reddened with shame at his own reaction to the Doctor's angry tone. He drew his knees to his chest and turned towards the wall again, posture as fearful as before. The Doctor paced back and forth, reminding himself that the other Time Lord was in an extremely vulnerable, almost child-like state. "I'm sorry I shouted," he said calmly.

"It doesn't matter," replied the Master in a near whisper.

"Yes, it does. I didn't mean to frighten you."

He leaned against the wall, then slid down until seated, and continued, "You have nothing to fear from me. I'm not going to be your keeper. As soon as I'm sure that you'll be all right on your own, you are free to start over…to go wherever you want. You don't owe me anything, I don't expect anything, and I'm not going to ask for anything you're not willing to give. But I want you to know that I'd be more than happy to be your companion, if…or when…you want."

"I meant it when I said that I want to be your friend…but I'm afraid I can't."

"Why not?"

"I mean I can't. I don't know how. I'll make a terrible mess of it, and you'll hate me again."

"I never hated you."

The Master shot him a furtive glance. "I guess I knew that. I guess I never hated you, either."

The Doctor looked at him, cautiously amazed. The Master slowly edged towards him until they were side by side, and though he wasn't sure what he was doing, put an arm around his shoulders. The Doctor had thought that dark magic felt like absolute bliss, but it paled in comparison to this comforting pressure. He mirrored the gesture, and after a long moment felt the Master take a deep breath and relax, intentionally leaning against him. The Doctor smiled widely, barely able to contain his bursting joy. "Thank you," said the Master.

"Anytime."

"I'm so sorry."

"No more of that."

"I think it'll be on us in a minute."

"What will?"

"The last two curses. Remember? How I needed you to feel it, too? You're about to."

The final two Cruciatus curses didn't hurt any less than those that had gone before, but the knowledge that they weren't alone in their suffering made it almost bearable. After the contortions of pain had passed, the two Time Lords lay side by side.

"We made it," said the Doctor.

Though his hearts felt oppressively heavy, the Master managed to smile slightly. "From now on, would you call me M?"

"M for what?"

"Whatever you want."

"Magician."

Neither seemed to remember that they weren't alone. The others were clustered on the opposite side of the room, curious, but wanting to give the Time Lords some privacy. Despite feeling voyeuristic, Snape had hung on every word and gesture, heart increasing in speed as he realized he had witnessed perhaps the most important interaction either man would ever have.

He also realized that a similar conversation had been waiting for him for years and could wait no longer, even though the implications were terrifying.

Though Snape had been in full possession of his mental faculties when he'd made the decision to join the Death Eaters, he empathized with the Master in that he knew very well what it was to serve a monster, and to experience crushing guilt and self-loathing. But when he heard the Doctor's compassionate words of forgiveness, when he saw the sacrifice he was willing to make in order to heal his former enemy, something sparked to life in his chest, a feeling so deeply buried and nearly forgotten it took him a few minutes to identify it as hope.

He looked at Harry Potter as if really seeing him for the first time. At the cost of his entire youth, how much had Harry been forced to endure, how callous would he have to become in order to complete his task, and for whose benefit?

Snape glared at Dumbledore, failing to control his furious expression. The Headmaster's blue eyes, usually twinkling and benign, stared back with a steeliness that conveyed a clear warning. Snape was about to speak when the Doctor said, "As soon as we help deal with Voldemort, we'll go-"

The man formerly known as the Master abruptly sat up and clutched his arms around his knees again. "Oh, no. No no no no no."

"What is it?"

"I let him...do something to my TARDIS. Made it into a...whore..."

More than one brow wrinkled in confusion.

"I'm sorry, I can't remember. He called it something like a whore," repeated the man, racking his memory.

"A horcrux?" asked Dumbledore. "Was the word horcrux?"

The Time Lord looked up at the elderly wizard with obvious relief. "Yes, that was it."

"What's a horcrux?" asked the Doctor and Harry simultaneously.

"Wait," Snape said, nearly shouted, mostly in the direction of Dumbledore.

Everyone turned to look at him. "The Dark Lord is an extremely skilled Legilimens, a telepath. He can gain access to anything that Potter knows. Please, allow me to instruct him in Occlumency before you reveal anything more. We can start immediately."

"That would be sensible," said Dumbledore.

Harry looked angry, but followed Snape to his adjoining chambers.