timey_wimey | [RL con el Master - Time Vortex poisoning! :(]

The Doctor winced and grabbed at the rails of the TARDIS as he was shoved through. Damn, he really was angry. This was not good. He needed to calm him down and fast.

"What, you think I had something to do with this?" he said defiantly, starting to get riled up himself against his will. "Don't be daft! How the hell was I supposed to have done something like this? This -" he gestured aimlessly, "this violates every law of - everything! You really think I'd be behind something like that?"

"There is ANOTHER YOU IN EXISTENCE, DOCTOR! Why ELSE would you do it?! Disgusting, even for you, bringing us back to ease your LONELINESS! YOU'RE the one's gone mad, living with your STUPID APES!"

The Master was deliriously furious now, shaking the TARDIS railing and smashing his body against the walls while stalking ever closer towards The Doctor.

"And now you say you don't want to play. LIAR! LIAR! You want to win, keep me alive to the end of the universe with you, knowing I've LOST! BLOODY BASTARD! DON'T YOU LIE TO ME!"

"I'M NOT LYING!" he roared back in frustration, one hand going for his pocket and the reassuring presence of the sonic screwdriver. "Have you ever maybe considered that for once the universe isn't revolving around you?!"

The Doctor reached the central column of the TARDIS, staring down the Master defiantly. "Look, this is bigger than us, I truly have no idea what in Rassilon's name is going on!" he said almost beseechingly. "Believe me."

The Master snarled and raised his arm to strike The Doctor, but he could hear the fearful sincerity in the other Time Lord's voice. He stumbled backward into the nearby railing.

"No... you're right," he murmured dazedly, tears welling in his eyes. "You're not the one who lies."

He clutched the railing behind him and seemed to deflate, legs giving out and body sagging. He was breathing heavily, trying desperately not to cry. He wanted to blame someone, anyone for his failure, because that's what it was. This game was all he knew. He could barely remember what came before it; that The Doctor did terrified him.

He screamed in rage and fear, a ragged and haunting sound.

The Doctor was breathing just as heavily, a little shaken by the whole experience. Slowly, he approached the other Time Lord, almost like one would approach a wounded animal, kneeling down at his level and stretching out a hand to rest on the Master's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Really, I am. I don't know how this happened but... maybe we can find out."

The Master screwed his eyes shut and turned his head away from The Doctor. It was humiliating to look so weak in front of him. He was better than this, but... it was all so hard now.

"...I remember dying," he whispered. "I've died so many times, so many. I thought this would be the last." He laughed mirthlessly. "It was such a good death, wasn't it Doctor? So fitting. Never thought I'd feel cheated by being alive. I found myself... it was cold... the first thing I did, you know what it was?"

He looked into The Doctor's eyes, searching. "I screamed your name."

The Doctor listened with the smallest of frowns on his face, swallowing convulsively. He didn't really need to be reminded of that. At those final words though, he flinched almost imperceptibly, his hand tightening ever so slightly on the other Time Lord's shoulder.

There wasn't really much you could say to that, even with his mouth.

The Master was shaking slightly, still coming down from his little psychotic episode. He couldn't feel The Doctor's hand tighten, but he didn't need to; he could feel the turmoil in the other Time Lord's thoughts.

He scowled, looking almost disappointed. "You could say something, Doctor," he muttered. "You've always been good at saying something..."

He brushed him away and stood slowly, trying to steady himself.

The Doctor didn't stand at first, looking up at the Master almost sadly. The truth was, for once in his life he actually had no idea what to say. Which was more than a little unsettling.

"Yeah. I could say something," he admitted. "Just a matter of saying the right something. Or not, as the case may be."

"Neither of us can stand the quiet, can we," The Master uttered cryptically.

He felt as if he could drop right there - if he were alone, he might have. Instead he found a perfectly adequate support in The Doctor's mind. He reached out to it, grazing his thoughts, feeling for his body's reassuring calm. The other Time Lord's mind was so serene compared to his... he almost envied it. Immediately he settled down, hearts returning to their steady beats.

He stared blankly into space for a moment, lost in the sensation. He sniffed and shook his head.

"I'm famished," he said in a surprisingly soft voice. "Got anything to eat?"

The Doctor wasn't really expecting the brush on his mind when it came, but he let down his defenses when he felt the Master's mind touched his, letting him take what he needed. And well... if he was honest, it had been so long since anyone, let alone another member of his race, had initialised mental contact. He had missed it. Well, there was a revelation.

He blinked at the Master's question. "Errm. Well, yes. Somewhere. Actually... hang on a second," he said, springing to his feet and heading towards the door off the control room. "Erm, this way. Eventually," he muttered, hoping that the kitchen was where he had left it. And thinking that he should have put it somewhere a little more accessible.

The Master followed him through, letting his eyes wander over the TARDIS interior, trailing his fingers across its walls absently.

"What did you do after I died?" he asked rather nonchalantly. Truth be told the question had been gnawing at him for months, but he had regained enough composure to not sound desperate.

The Doctor froze for the smallest fraction of a second, but only a fraction, before carrying on down the corridor almost automatically.

"Um... more traveling, mostly. Always on the move," he said casually, turning a corner as he did so.

"I burnt it, you know,” he said abruptly. “Your body. I honestly thought… that you weren’t coming back.”

He sucked in a breath. “Anyway. Kitchen’s through here,” he said cheerfully. Ok, so it was a bit of a mess because really, who could be bothered to clean up, but it was serviceable and, more importantly, had food.

It was The Master's turn to freeze when he heard The Doctor's comment. He built a funeral pyre for him, as was proper for their people. No degrading burial like a human - he didn't defile his corpse, at least. But he wasn't sure what unnerved him more; that his body had been incinerated, or that The Doctor had gone through the trouble to perform a funeral rite.

He stopped and stood awkwardly in the threshold. He turned to the other man and gave a crooked half-smile.

"I'm your guest. Place looks a bit different from the last time I've been inside it, so."

The Doctor scratched the back of his head habitually, a little embarrassed. "Er, yeah. Don't seem to care for cleaning much, this time round," he said apologetically. "Right then."

He turned to one of the myriad cupboards in the place and opened it, peering inside. "Hope you don't mind something simple. Burn toast, me. Well, most of the time. If I'm unlucky." He cleared a spot for the stuff from the cupboard. Sandwiches. He could do sandwiches easy. At least, he hoped so.

((OOC: lame tag is laaaame. AND MAKING TEN DO DOMESTIC MAKES ME SPEND OVER 3 HOURS WRITING A TAG. >:[ I HOPE THAT THE MASTER IS HAPPY.))

The Master watched him rummage through the cupboards with growing impatience.

"Oh, give over," he grumbled. He nudged The Doctor out of the way and grabbed the various ingredients he had gathered.

"Brew something," he said patronizingly, while hastily slapping together a sandwich. "You can do that, can't you?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Well I'd be in a spot of bother if I didn't know how to make tea," he muttered to himself, filling the battered kettle with water and prodding it a little with the sonic screwdriver - so much easier than just waiting for the thing to boil anyway. Don't provoke the savage beast and all that.

He checked a battered tin for teabags. Oh look, jelly babies, though really he had no idea how they'd got in there. Well, waste not, want not...

"Catch," he said, throwing the bag in the Master's general direction.

((LOL I HAD TO.))

The Master caught the package with both hands... and shot The Doctor a look that could've set a lesser being alight. (Smart thinking, not turning the hob on.)

"...No thank you."

He gingerly set it aside as if it were something poisonous and picked up a sandwich instead. He tore at it ravenously, barely taking the time to chew.

"This hunger," he said between bites. "It's seized me, ever since I came back. Anything I can get my hands on."

He had hardly finished the first one before he started making another. He certainly didn't look like he had put on any weight.

The Doctor shrugged, completely unperturbed by the glare. "Suit yourself. All the more for me then."

He cupped a mug of tea in both hands and leaned against the counter, a small line between his eyebrows as he watched the Master devour his sandwich.

"Strange..." he mused. "Very strange, in fact. Though I guess that we really don't know what to expect, what with -" He cut himself off and changed the subject. "Anyway," he said with a heavy sigh, "M'not surprised you're hungry now. Seems to me you haven't really given much thought to eating, erm... recently."

The Master glanced up at him coldly but said nothing. He stared at The Doctor for a long time, expressionless, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he ate.

"...Make me a cup of tea, would you."

The Doctor started out of his reverie. "Sorry, what? Oh, yes! Tea." He absent-mindedly poured a cup and stirred it before sliding it across the bench towards the Master.

"Hope you don't like it with sugar, I seem to have run low on that."

"I do, actually." A faint smirk played on his lips. "But I suppose I'll settle this once."

He sipped at it quietly, letting it linger near his mouth, taking in the warmth.

"You were distracted. Letting down your guard?"

The Doctor took a sip of his own tea. "Mmmm, a little bit. Have to watch that," he said with a weak smile.

What distracted you, Doctor. What thought were you lost in. Show it to me.

The intrusion came suddenly this time, The Master's thoughts loud and extant, as if he were speaking in his ear.

He stood very still, eyes shut and head cocked slightly to one side, listening. It had been so long. He listened to the other Time Lord's thoughts on occasion when he was his pet, yes, but that was different. The feelings were all muddled, sputtering fragments of words half-forgotten, soaked with pain. These were fresh and vibrant, the Doctor he remembered. It was good.

The Doctor started at that sudden intrusion, eyes wide open in shock. His first instinct was to get him out, get him away, but he forced himself to stop and wait, to stop instinctively closing his mind off. Other thoughts demanding, wanting, pulsing away underneath his. It was a bit of a shock after growing so used to the quiet, almost the silence, of being alone.

Show it to me.

He glanced at the other Time Lord. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject