A/N: I hope the chapters show up now. They aren't new, just re-uploaded, because before the site would only show an error if you tried to access them...

FFNet seems to have some bugs rn... So yeah... let's just hope

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Things settled down after an hour. The guards went through the crowd, searching every single person for weapons and other dangerous things. It took time, a lot of it, since there were so many of them and also because the scans were thorough. The Master didn't want anyone to have a chance to make a stupid move. And since his little stunt they all feared him too much to disobey.

I sat on top of the stairs, watching the process, watching how the site with checked people grew, while the other site didn't seem to shrink at all. How many were there?

The few hours in the library had helped a lot with my overstimulation. Everything was a lot more bearable now. I was still surprised, though. That the Master had actually researched what autism is just to know what to do if it affected me too much was… strange. With everyone else this would be sweet and a welcomed gesture, but with him? Did he have an underlying plan? Did he just want to make sure I would stay sane and alive until his drums got found?

I sighed quietly, knowing that no one would be able to give me an answer. My gaze wandered to the windows, watching the heavy rain that had put out the fires at least.

Half an hour ago we had heard another explosion outside, but again found no one who might have caused it. Both Time Lords were annoyed in their own way, one because he couldn't help, the other because he couldn't lay his hands around the culprit's neck and squeeze.

This whole situation was so strange. Somewhere out there or even among us were some terrorists who wanted to see us dead. Well, the Master, to be precise, but that didn't change a thing. Neither the Doctor, nor I would allow them to finish this job. Something I still couldn't wrap my head around.

I had killed people.

I didn't regret it. I knew that I would do it again immediately if I had to. But the weight that should settle in just… didn't. I felt nothing for those people. No guilt, no shame.

A woman sat next to me, tearing me out of my musings. She looked my age, give or take a few years. In her arms lay a struggling baby, nagging and half crying, making faces and fidgeting with its little limbs. The woman took out a bottle with milk and lowered it to the kid's mouth when a guard approached us, grabbing her arm so roughly that she shrieked.

"Civilians aren't allowed upstairs."

"I know. I just needed a quiet place to feed him."

"We can't make exceptions until everyone is checked, madam." The guard tried to be friendly. He even cast a help seeking glance at me, but I shrugged. "Come with us, then you can go back."

"But he's hungry!" Her outcry agitated the baby even more and it started whimpering. "Let me feed him first."

"No risks! You're coming with us. Now!"

The poor woman had no choice. Her eyes landed on me, with a pleading look in them. "Can you take him? You're with the mayor, aren't you? Please take care of him!" she begged, pressing the struggling baby and the bottle into my hands before the guards could drag her away.

Everything had happened so fast that it took me almost a minute to comprehend the situation. I looked down, blinking stupidly at the now crying child in my arms.

"Tzz, I let you out of sight and you get yourself knocked up. Should I get jealous?"

"Wha-?" I turned my head to see the Master approaching, slumping down next to me on the step. "That doesn't even make sense. And you stop screaming, little thing. Pass me that bottle, will ya?"

The Master did, but only with the stupidest grin on his face he could probably produce.

"And why the hell would you be jealous? You really make no sense sometimes." I shook my head and balanced the bottle with the kid. "And if this does make sense and it's something I don't remember, I'll rather keep it forgotten."

The Master snickered. "No, nothing of the sort. I couldn't resist a silly joke. You're fine."

I let out a sigh. At least the baby decided to drink now. For a second. Then it turned its head away and looked around, already starting to fidget again.

"Isn't it dangerous for you to be here?" I asked, nodding downstairs. "Someone could shoot."

"No." He leaned back, watching the crowd. A few people pointed at him. "See, there is an energy shield between us and them. Everything with a certain velocity or chemical structure gets vaporised on touch. This place has some nifty security measurements." He chuckled and observed me still struggling, shaking his head. "You're doing it wrong. No wonder the thing keeps crying."

"'m not," I grumbled, scowling at the baby when it turned its head away from the bottle for the umpteenth time. "I fed my nephews a lot when they were little. I thought you were hungry. You won't get better if you don't drink, kiddo."

"And how long ago was that?"

If my hands would have been free I would have slapped his stupid arm. "Almost twenty years. But still…"

"Hold him a little higher. No, not like that. Tilt the head," he instructed, oozing with mirth. "Yeah, like that. And I know you hate eye contact, but keep it anyway."

"Huh?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Not with me, stupid, with that thing." He pointed at the baby.

Oh, right. I did and tried again with the bottle. And really, this time the child started drinking and kept at it, greedily sucking at the bottle as if it had been truly starving. Somehow it unnerved me how those little eyes kept watching me. What did the tiny boy expect? That I'd eat him if I looked away?

"Twenty years," the Master clicked his tongue and shook his head. "That's nothing. Try seven hundred."

"Seven hundred?"

"Keep eye contact, Lumin. And yes."

"Don't listen to him." The Doctor's voice came from behind us and he sat down next to the Master, blocking the last free space on the stairs. "You got your loom when she was five. You don't have to feed five-year-olds. Weeeeeeell, you do, but not with bottles."

Next to me, I felt the Master tense. Something shifted in his energy, got colder, distant. "Just shut the fuck up, Doctor."

"Oh, come on. I know it's a touchy subject, but be honest, what do you really remember? The council erased almost everything."

"Doctor, I warn you."

"What's a loom?" I asked and looked up and then quickly down again, remembering the staring infant in my arms. The bottle neared its end. "Oh, no wait. I've read about it." And then I couldn't help it and stared at the Master again. "Wait. You had a child?"

He scowled at me and this look could murder even the toughest person if hit unprepared. To my luck a guard came up to us and picked up the baby, nodding a thanks towards me, before vanishing. He provided enough distraction to suffocate the fight before it could even start. I wondered how many people downstairs had seen me and thought it might have been, although by accident, another good way to show them we were on their side.

My look wandered back to the Time Lords. They still stared at one another, ready to get into a fist fight as it seemed. The Doctor, for some reason, looked just as pissed off as the Master. But maybe that was just how they always were with one another.

And then Donna happened.

"Yeah, when do you finally tell us about your Dad-days, Mr grumpy? Don't make such a secret of it."

She obviously had heard us talk, now looming over the bannister, oblivious about how little the Master was willing to even think about it all.

"Dad-days?" repeated another voice. Vienna's.

I could feel the thread snap seconds before the Master sprang up, anger and hatred radiating from him like I had never felt before. A reminder. He was a dangerous person in every aspect and he could and would hurt people if it suited him. Or if they angered him enough.

I placed a hand on his arm, nodding downstairs. Would he snap here, everyone would witness. And, luckily, he had enough composure to calm down again. Somewhat. I still felt his anger, it seeped through the skin of his arm, through my hand and right into me. A lightning bolt in its unexpectedness.

For a moment he stared at me, perplexed, not saying a word. Then he rolled down his sleeves and nodded me to follow. The Doctor did too, although without an invitation, as did the two women. For now we didn't speak, just following. I wasn't even sure that had been his intention, but he didn't stop us either, walking straight to the kitchen.

It offered a nice assortment of kitchen devices and a rectangular table for six people, comfy wooden chairs, wooden ornaments on the walls, and a soft floor. Whoever had built this place knew how to make people feel comfy.

"So, are you going to tell us?" poked Donna. She either didn't see that he didn't want to or she didn't care. Both weren't particularly good for her health.

"I went here to get tea," growled the Master. "Not to be followed by a bunch of apes and an incompetent pilot."

"Oi! My piloting skills have done nothing to you!" the Doctor whined. "They don't even have anything to do with this!"

"Then buzz off, all of you."

"And miss the story of how you became a villain?" Vienna grinned widely at him and it wasn't a pleasant expression.

No one could stop him in time. And no one did more than subtly wince anyway when he hurled around, grabbing Vienna at her collar, twisting the cloth until she could barely breathe. Within a single moment it became clear that she was no match for him, even with all her training. The Master's strength exceeded hers and he did not treat her gently when he dragged her the few steps towards the door, shoving her outside.

"And stay out!" he screamed. "This is none of your business, Salvatori!"

She didn't get a chance to answer. The door slammed shut in front of her face and we all stared at the fuming Time Lord, shrinking under his threatening glares.

"That was a little rude, wasn't it?" Donna tried to lighten the situation with a smile.

"I don't care."

"Why's that bothering you so much, anyway?" Donna asked, picking a box with different tea bags from a shelf. "It's not that unlikely for people to have kids, yeah? Nothin' to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed," grumbled the Master, snatching the box out of her hands and fishing out two bags. "I just don't want to remember."

He produced two cups, put the bags in it and poured water over both, then turned around to hand me one. A smell of apple and cinnamon hit my nose. One of my favourite kinds. I took the cup, blinking perplexed. "Uh, thanks."

He narrowed his brows. "You're burning to hear more too, aren't you?"

I couldn't hide the apologetic grin and only shrugged.

The Doctor coughed, fidgeting with his screwdriver. "He can't tell us much, anyway. But I am curious how much you actually kept. Memories, I mean. I know the council let you keep some. As punishment."

With a growl the Master slumped down on a chair, clutching his mug with an increasingly unsettled look. "They erased everything from her tenth birthday on."

"Waaaaiiit a second!" Donna took place on another chair, far enough away to be out of reach. "You wanna tell me your government people erased the memories of your own child? How messed up's that?"

It surprised me that he hadn't thrown her out, too. Maybe he now wished he had, being bombarded by questions and lingering looks.

When she got no answer, Donna tried it again. But this time she only asked a single word.

"Why?"

"Why indeed," the Doctor mumbled. "It never made sense to me. But then again, no one can remember, right?"

"She got almost completely erased from existence. Whatever happened after that…" The Master swallowed. "But I know. Whatever fucked up reason they made up, it wasn't relevant."

"I still don't get it," Donna said.

"Master, what are you not telling me?" the Doctor asked carefully. "I know… something was always off about the whole thing. Why? Why did they erase her?"

For the first time I saw a glimpse of the raw pain the Master felt, it simmered inside his eyes. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes glued to his cup as if it could offer solace. "Just leave it be, will you?"

The Doctor, of course, didn't listen. "It never made much sense to me. Looming costs way too many resources. They never punish the children, only the parents and-"

"Because she wasn't."

The Doctor rambled on for a few moments until his brain caught up with the words he had just heard. "She… what do you mean? She wasn't what?"

"A loom, Doctor!" the Master ground out, looking up. "Eleya wasn't a loom."