Obligatory Disclaimer: No ownership of Doctor Who here. Sadly, I just write for the love of the series and my favorite Time Lords! If I did own them, Simm would never leave Tennant's side!
Summery: Second in the Silentium series. The Master has begun to bury his hatred away, having decided to travel with the man who he had been at war with for centuries now. Yet, the drums wont let him rest. He is trying to be Koschei once again. In honor of her memory. But one night, in the back streets of Cambridge, he hears silence and sees piercing green eyes he thought he'd never see again. Master/OC. Rated M for violence, language and possible scenes. Read Silentium first!
Spoiler Alert: Possible spoilers for the end of series six. The Doctor is traveling with his newest companion, the Master, for now. Possible spoilers for EoT, but if you've read the first story then nothing really new. Always spoilers for Theta/Koschei's past.
Rating Warning: Rated 'M' for the Master's and Keara's dirty mouth. Some drastic scenarios between characters including violence and some adult sexual scenes. Fair warning though, this story may contain some... fluff!
Enjoy.
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Chapter One:
Forever is a Long Time
Day four hundred and sixty-four.
The Master's rolled his shoulders, each joint cracking loudly as he stretched forward. The number seemed to be growing at an alarming rate in the back of his mind these day. It had been nearly one hundred days since he had turned his back on the one thing that had driven him for so long. Killing the Doctor, mainly.
Instead, he was traveling with the tosser! He had once had the Doctor within seconds of death and pulled away. Why? Not out of weakness. Not out of pity. No, not even out of compassion. The answer was simply really. The Master was greedy. He wanted, craved, the peace he had once experienced. Just four hundred and sixty-four days ago.
The Master craves her.
Suddenly, he bit his own tongue, pushing the thoughts away. No! He told himself. He wouldn't allow that thought to plague him again. It was bad enough he counted the days, bad enough he suffered hallucinations, but he wouldn't pine over the reason too.
The Doctor had helped him though. Mental barriers blocked out the loudest portion of the drums. It was a low thump most days, a roaring inferno others.
The latter caused him pain, unimaginable and tormenting pain. To the point where he'd lock himself in the lower levels of the TARDIS. Trying desperately to control something that had for so long controlled him.
Today was one of those days. The Doctor knew better than to bother with him. For that, he was thankful. The drums screeched to life, pulsing so loud he couldn't hear anything else. They wanted to be feed. Death, destruction, governance. Anything to quiet them. But the Master wouldn't allow it. He was trying to change, he had changed.
"Koschei?"
There it was again. The sounds of his insanity keeping him company in the middle of the night. How many nights had he woken to the sounds of her voice, he wondered. He hated it, just wished it would leave him alone.
He had actually been able to fall asleep for the first time in weeks. His sleep deprived body had finally won against his struggle with the drums. And he had slept in an utter state of bliss for the first time in a very long time. Yet now he had awoken, hearing the voice that seemed to fuel his already unstable mind.
She plagued the Master's thoughts.
He knew that he had very well lost any shred of sanity that remained. Any hopes that he had once harbored of ever finding peace had vanished completely, imploding when that damned ship had.
It had been like losing Ailla all over again. The Master cringed, rubbing the souls of his palms against his eyes. The last thing he needed was to starting thinking of that again. It wouldn't do to go thinking of either women now. Both were gone, so far outside his reach that it was devastating.
"Koschei," The voice carried throughout the Master's room. He laughed bitterly, thinking of how crisp and clear the voice sounded. His hallucinations were becoming better, he mused. More realistic. Further proof that he had finally taken that plunge off the deep end.
The Time Lord forced himself up, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He had to get a grip on his mind. He couldn't allow the hallucination to win. Not again.
He was the Master. Gallifrey's most infamous son. Yet he had spent the last two years since her death halfheartedly trying to form a plan to control the drums.
In truth, he spent most days wishing for the silence she used to bring him, missing the feel of her soft lips against his, or seeing her foolish lopsided smile every time he entered their room.
The Master spent a lot of time fighting away hallucinations brought on by sleep deprivation and starvation. The former wasnt his fault. Even though he was a Time Lord, the universe's greatest gift to life, he still had nightmares. More and more frequently now, they were no longer of Keara but repeats of nightmares he had once had on Gallifrey as a child.
The later was in fact his fault. The Doctor had more than enough supplies to sustain an entire planet twice over. Yet the TARDIS' kitchen was still bare in his eyes, still relatively untouched at the end of the hallway.
"Koschei, where are you?" The voice sounded louder now, just off down a corridor not far away. The Master stared blankly at the wall in front of him. Oh, this hallucination had to be the best yet! Even the drums had seemed to quiet down with this one. Nice touch, thought the Master bitterly.
With nothing but the sound of her voice to feel the gaps of silence, the Master could feel his anger boiling over. Why couldnt his mind just let Keara die? Was there a reason she haunted him? Was this his punishment for all his wrong doings?
The Master's head snapped towards the door to his room. Someone was wrenching at the knob, twisting it to no avail. He heard a very low 'humph' and everything became still once more. He heard the footsteps retreating now, heading off to another corridor. It was all he could handle.
The Time Lord didn't even bother to dress himself, instead pushing his way through the door in nothing but a pair of old trousers, worn with age.
Truly, he had missed the silence that Keara had given him. It had been killing slowly everyday that they sounded. She had taken them away for such a short time in his life but he had felt like he couldn't live without that silence when it had ceased. He needed her Quis to survive. Without it, he was just a broken, psychopathic Time Lord who wanted nothing more than the sweet embrace of death. Both his and that of others.
But her Quis' sudden departure wasnt the reason he had been so broken over the past year. It was because of Keara herself. He had grown so accustomed to her presence that once it was gone, he longed for it once more.
Love was never a word he would use. Only Koschei could love. The Master couldn't and it killed him to even think about it. He wouldn't even think of the word. Yet he had missed her to the point that his hearts ached to even think her name, let alone allow himself the luxury of envisioning her soft face.
Then there was the simple thought of what could have been. Dominus. The son that would never exist. Despite how much he had told himself that it didnt matter, Koschei had craved a son. A child, really.
Seeing Dominus dangled before him and then knowing that he no longer has the chance to exist... It ate away at him at night. His oh so brilliant son, a boy that reminded him so much of himself on Gallifrey would never be a reality.
It was an odd feeling, far worse than the drums. It was as if he couldn't fill the need in his mind and stomach. It hurt worse than the sound of drums. It caused him countless nightmares. And something other than the drums had taken residence in his mind now. Something far, far worse than the drum's plague. Worse than anything Rassilon could ever have placed on him. It was horrible. A burden for him alone to bare. He was left with...
With a conscious, no less.
It wasnt long before the Master stood in the console room, glancing about the interior of the TARDIS. He knew following the voice would lead him nowhere, but it had made the drums lower their tempo some. In the end, that's all that had mattered.
"Master?"
The Time Lord glanced up, locking eyes with the man across the room. The Doctor's glance was calculating, deciding whether or not to press his friend. They may have had a truce but they were a long way off from what they had been on Gallifrey.
"Are you alright?" The Doctor's kept his tone even, trying not to betray the concern that he held. The other man just nodded lightly, so much so that the Doctor nearly missed it. He sucked in a deep breath, holding his tongue. He knew the Master was lying. One glance into his brown eyes and he could see the pain behind them. "Right then."
The Doctor took a sip of his tea, but neither man moved much more than that. Other than the occasional sound of the TARDIS' engines, there was no noise. The Doctor's companions, still Amy and now her husband, Rory, were sleeping somewhere aboard, completely oblivious to the Master's condition.
Again, it was a strange feeling. The Master being indifferent to them. Not mean, but certainly not treating them as the apes he saw them once. Perhaps it was for the sake of the Doctor, or maybe it was because he was trying to redeem himself. Whatever it was, the Master was civil with the Ponds.
Even in the beginning of his travels with the Doctor, he had tried. He knew he could never be Koschei again, not without his Quis. But he was trying.
The Doctor's gaze had not drifted away from his fellow Time Lord. Honestly, the Master didn't care for the pity he saw but he didn't turn it away. It was that very pity that had saved him. If the Doctor's empathy wasnt so great, he would be dead at the hands of his supposed Dalek ally.
"We both carry the fire, that has the power to end life. But what I do with that flame is what separates our types."
The Doctor's words echoed clearly in the Master's memories. He couldn't remember truer words. They were both two of a kind. Geniuses in their own respective rights. Both so capable of death and dominance. But the Doctor, that sainted physician, he knew how to control himself. He knew how to be almost human.
The word brought a smile to the Master's features. The first genuine one in months. And the Doctor took note of this but didnt question the reasoning behind it. He was afraid words would make it disappear. But the Master was lost in his own mind, the drums lower only slightly, while he thought of how close they both had been to death.
"You know it isn't too late to end what seems impossible," The Doctor's words were so pleading to his fellow Time Lord, to his once long ago friend. They both knew it was too late to become what they once were, but the Doctor would never accept that fact. He wanted nothing more than to save Koschei.
"Even though we aren't the same," The Master mumbled, battling with his drums. His one mission in all his lives had been to kill the Doctor. He was so close! So very, very close. His death was at hand, yet he couldn't enjoy it.
"Why don't you hop into my ship," He offered whole heartedly. The Master could see the genuine expression on his face, the familiar mirth in his eyes. His double pulse seemed to nearly slow as he studied the other's features. No mocking, only more pleading to be shown in his eyes.
"WE WILL SETTLE THIS FOREVER," The Daleks voice cut through both men's thoughts, though neither looked away from each other.
"We can travel time," The Doctor whispered, "Together."
"Yeah, we can settle this," The Master replied through gritted teeth. "Forever."
Forever is a long time. Even for a Time Lord. And even though the thought of being the Doctor's prisoner was still fresh in his mind, the Master couldnt refuse his offer. He was sick of it all. Sick and tired of the death and destruction that followed him. That was why Keara was gone.
His small, momentary smile melted away instantly. Again, the Doctor took note.
"Care for some tea?" The Doctor asked in a quiet, concerned tone. The Master just shook his head, not daring to trust his voice for fear it would betray him. "Master, please, you barely eat or sleep. The least you could do is avoid dehydration."
"I'm fine," It came out as an angered growl. He knew he was taking out his anger on a man who was honestly trying to help him. But if there was someone who could take a verbal beating and still give his life for you, it was the Doctor.
"Alright, alright! Cant be mad a guy for trying," The Doctor's joking tone didn't carry. Though he tried to muster a smile, it never reached his eyes. The Master sighed heavily, finally giving in.
"If it'll make you shut up," but before he could finish, the Doctor was already handing him a cup. The Master gave him an annoyed look.
"I was hoping you'd join me," The Doctor shrugged, taking another pull of his own tea. He could have sworn he heard the Master mutter a Gallifreyan curse under his breath, something like "Sepulchasm"but let it go for the sake of civility. It was rare that they could be in the same room without the fear of danger or their voice raised in argument.
"Are we going to drop the kiddies off on Earth soon?" The Master casually asked.
"Most likely. They need a break every so often, you know," His reply was just as casual. "The TARDIS is acting up though. I think she needs to be refueled."
"Hmm," The Master didn't have much interest in the TARDIS' workings anymore. At first, he had tried everything to get the Doctor to let him fix up the old type forty, but he wouldn't have any of it. The most brilliant mind alive in the universe and he wasnt even allowed to fix a stupid Chameleon Circuit!
"Jack's team has set up a base in America," The Doctor continued, speaking of his old companion Jack Harkness. "Somewhere in New England. New England! Can you believe that? As if there was something wrong with the old England! Well, I suppose what with the oppression and poverty and such... But to name something New when there's still an Old-"
"Make your point and quit your damn rambling!" The Master's voice wasnt loud, but rather stern. The Doctor wasnt really fazed by it too much. The only thing it successes in doing is causing the Doctor to redirect his rant.
"Right, well, he wants me to stop by. Sent me a message on the psychic paper a few days ago! Says he may have a lead on River too," It was the Doctor's turn to grow quiet, fearing his voice would leave him. The Master gave him a consoling glance. What day was it for him since he'd last seen River? Has to be close to four hundred by now, the Master thought.
Sure, the Doctor had his companions. Amy and Rory came and went. He had had a brilliant batch of others, including one he had truly, truly cared for. Faldora, a well-keeper in training from a planet that the Master would rather forget about. But none like River. The Master, though never one to sympathize, knew what the Time Lord was going through more than he knew.
"Right then," The Master pushed himself away from the rail he was leaning against and headed straight for the controls. "I need coordinates, and a time zone."
"Earth, 42-22-25! North 71-06-38 West! October, 2012," The Doctor was excited to see the Master willing and able to help out. Another rarity, to see the Master outside of his own little world, and so ready to be with others, even if it was only because it was the Doctor. It was a small victory, but a victory none the less. "To the Hub of the Universe!"
"Excuse me?" The Master nearly laughed, hearing the words. Earth? The Hub of the Universe?
"Come on, the Hub! Bean Town?" The Doctor smiled widely, receiving a blank face from the Master. "Cambridge, Massachusetts! America in all its glory! Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses of homo-reptilians with perception filters!"
"I don't think that's how it goes, Doctor," It was Amy to chime in, rubbing the side of her head and stifling a yawn. It was clear she had just woken up.
"Noo, it isn't," The Doctor admitted, running his hands over the controls, "It would have been though, if they'd listened to me! New Colossus is far too pretentious to be a city's motto! It's completely... Icky!"
"Icky?" The Master and Amy asked at the same time.
"Yes! For lack of a better word, icky," He replied, earning a laugh from his female companion.
"Whats with all the noise?" Rory seemed just as groggy as Amy, proving that both had just roused themselves out of bed.
"The Doctor was just astounding us with his brilliant vocabulary," Amy joked, wrapping her arms around her husband's shoulders. Rory replied in turn, letting out a loud yawn of his own. "Right then, Doctor, where are you dragging us off to this time?"
"America!"
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Author's Note: So I'm back! Yes, I know. You were terrified you'd never see our heroine and hero again! Well, give it a while! The story is about to pick right back up and throw you for a loop! I'm so excited. This is set after The Wedding of River Song but before the start of series seven. It is AU but could still be considered canon.
If you confused as to why the Master is traveling with the Doctor, go back and read the epilogue of Silentium. It'll explain everything. Plus, I'll go into more detail of what exactly happened after Jack saved the Master. Later, of course.
I really wanted do a fluff story, but obviously, the Master is not fluffy. And I don't really ever write fluff pieces. But this will be a little less on the dark side of fanfic and more humor and romance. Sorry, I'm just so bloody excited to be back to work after so long away from all of this! Time to let my Bad Wolf out!
Any who, sorry this A/N is so long... Reviews would be VERY appreciated! You know they're my muses and I love you for them. Or just a nice PM.
NEXT CHAPTER: Too Many Nights