"This isn't exactly what I imagined when you suggested 'fighting across the constellations.'" The Master said, gazing out at the broad expanse of universe surrounding them. The two Time Lords lay suspended in the TARDIS' protection field, on an asteroid, a few scorch marks its final testimony to the planet it had burst from only moments ago. In the light of the supernova they talked like old friends and old enemies, because what's the need for titles after all they had been through? They were themselves, and each other, and the last. The Master turned.
"Why did you do it?" Images of The Doctor racing back and forth, cradling the bleeding time lord to his chest. Into the TARDIS, smash controls, keep him breathing until you get to god-knows-where.
"I'm The Doctor." Cheeky. "And you very well know why."
"It's nice to hear."
"I need you. Just as much as you need me."
A beat.
"You knew it was me, didn't you? From the start." The Doctor understood what he meant. So very long ago, in so very distant a future. The first whisper of another Time Lord in oh so many years.
"Of course I knew."
A glance shared. The Doctor continued.
"What other would have the arrogance and tenacity to survive? There was no one else it could have been."
"No one else you would have wanted it to be."
The Doctor hesitated. And then he conceded.
The Master smiled, a wry and sadistic smile though somehow, it felt warm.
"I guess I've won after all."
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"How far do you think we'll go?" Theta asked, staring into the falling night, gazing out at the vast multitude of stars.
"We'll see them all." Said Koschei, long black hair and inky eyes. He brushed a stray blonde lock from his companion's face. And for a moment they smiled, so close as to share breath. They were young and old at once, this pair; fifteen, but with the knowledge of civilizations, the wisdom and madness of kings. The most brilliant minds of The Academy, and all they needed was each other.
Fingers laced and lips met, shy and unsure, and they stayed like that for a long, long while. Koschei buried his head in the other's neck because somehow this made it bearable, if only for a short time. The two dozed and whispered, together, of life and death, of peace and war.
"Koschei, look." Theta said gently, lovingly, entwining his fingers in the other's hair.
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In the beginning, The Master swore that he would never get used to it. That he was a prisoner, and The Doctor was better off letting him die. But eventually some of the bitterness left him. He was no longer the petulant child, no longer the madman. Somehow being close to The Doctor was… keeping him sane? The Master scoffed at the thought, so perfectly terrible. Trust The Doctor to heal him. He never wanted to be cured.
In time, however, the TARDIS became more familiar than a prison, closer to his hearts than a jail cell. In time, he started accompanying The Doctor on errands, to this planet and that, whenever The Doctor could be sure he wouldn't run away. In time, The Master stopped trying.
In time, The Master began to leave his bed in the middle of the night, and wander through the TARDIS. More often than not he would come to the console room, where The Doctor would be fiddling with one switch or another, fixing this or that, plotting a course or deciding on a destination or doing anything to keep from thinking, from dwelling on days and happiness past. The Doctor would not acknowledge that The Master was there, no, not until he acknowledged it himself. Which, in time, he did.
The Master approached The Doctor with soft padded footsteps, coming to a stop behind the other man. He gripped The Doctor's shoulder and turned him so they were face to face. No words were necessary, no, not for this moment, so presaged as it was. There was no surprise in The Doctor's eyes when cold lips met his, only a resounding 'about time' in his head.
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Kissing The Doctor was like going home.
In an instant he could see the rolling fields, like red velvet in the sunset, extending for miles and years seemingly without end. Gallifrey, with her glistening domes and spired turrets, magnificent and radiant and thoroughly alone. Waterfalls of liquid gold splashed and bubbled in his ears as it they were inches away, a whirlpool enveloping both time lords in a moment that was so much longer than forever, because that was what they shared now.
A stunning realization jolted The Master. He pushed The Doctor back as cold, gripping shock ran through his veins.
The drums…
When he had kissed The Doctor… They weren't gone, no, never gone… More… Eclipsed, really. He shook his head. He had to be sure. Grabbing The Doctor harshly by his tie, The Master pulled him forward for another deep kiss.
Yes, The Master almost laughed. The drums… Those four, maniacally repetitive beats… Overshadowed by the low pulsating thump of four hearts. The last four Time Lord hearts in existence, all across the galaxy. It was like puzzle pieces that finally fit, so well that it's beautiful, as if a fate stronger than destiny and more perfect than the tides had wrought it so.
The Master chuckled, pulling away just enough so he could whisper hotly in The Doctor's ear.
"I'll always be your darkness." He breathed. "Nothing has changed."
He met The Doctor's gaze and instantly knew he was wrong. Yes, he had always been the darkness, the shadowed reflection of The Doctor himself, this held true. But things had changed.
Because somehow, in twisted time, The Doctor had become his light.
(Doctor Who, Tardis, The Master, etc., do not belong to me.)