2. [Location: Mount Perdition] But now I've got you here, I'll never lead you back

[syncopath]

[ooc: backdated to before Ax's glitch but after the Doctor goes to see the Master for the first time. Log will span several days of torture FUN]

The Master whistled as he walked down the long hallway toward the 'guestroom' he'd set up for the Doctor, twirling his newly rebuilt laser screwdriver between his fingers. It was fortunate the Doctor had turned up when he did, really; the Master had tried just about everything attempting to recreate his little baby via the hatches. Used up all of his credits, and even then gritted his teeth through those increasingly annoying electric shocks to make more until he was certain he was going to damage his hand. Every time the thing had gone slightly wrong, somehow-- the aim was off, or one of the settings was compromised. Or it didn't fire at all. Rebuilding from scratch seemed to be the only option.

It hadn't taken long for him to get it working properly, once he'd gotten the limiting components from the Doctor's sonic version. Save the TARDIS, which he had a feeling he'd not get easy access to for a very long time considering the frosty tart in charge of it, these components did not appear to be available in Taxon without the hatch's interference.

Now the Doctor's screwdriver was in pieces, some of which were scattered on the floor of his workspace, and some of which were in his hand. The Master smiled as he flung open the door, letting some light into the otherwise dark room. He wasn't particularly worried about escapes at the moment. The House would know to restrain the Doctor for these little visits.

"No windows," he remarked, though he was smiling. "Oh dear. You must have made it particularly cross with you." The Master snapped his fingers, the room flooding instantly with light. "Better?"

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[syncopath]

He stared a little longer, lost in the tangle of emotions and thoughts that overlapped and crowded one another, none really completing except that instinctual imperative: Protect.

The Master's lips moved again, soundlessly, as if he were attacking a particularly complex and vexing equation. And then he turned and hurried out the door, his exit uncharacteristic in its abruptness. No gloating. No laughter. No promises of more to come. No last words at all.

And then I guess we'll continue the T-Rex thing here :D

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

[Presumably after T-Rex rampage and fallout thereof.]

The T-Rex attack hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped... which wasn't really a sentence the Doctor ever thought he'd get the chance to put into use before. Ideally he would have managed to slip away without getting caught by the Master or eaten by the dinosaur (and a part of him was still put out that there'd been a dinosaur in the city and he'd missed it), but that had fallen through. About the only good result from the attack was that it had given him much needed time to rest and regain his strength for what he would do next.

That was why, once the House was almost as still and quiet as it had been before the dinosaur attack, the Doctor leaned comfortably back against the wall and started tapping out a beat on the floor.

Tap tap tap tap.

Four familiar beats, just a fraction of a second out of sync with the beating of his own hearts.

Tap tap tap tap...

[syncopath]

He was sitting in his chair in the study, head tipped back and eyes closed in deep meditation as he and the House both recovered from the ordeal two days ago, when he heard it.

Tap tap tap tap.

It reverberated up through the floorboards, inside the walls, tiptoed up the Master's spine, raising the hairs on his arms, and echoed through his skull. And it was just out of sync with the rhythm in his own head.

It was wrong.

It didn't take long for the Master to pinpoint the origin-- the vibration was coming from the Doctor's room, from his own fingers. Someone apparently wanted his attention, and thought taunting him was the best way to get it.

Despite his initial desire to keep the Doctor waiting, to not be at his beck and call, the noise was impossible to ignore. The Master could have had the Drudges restrain him, perhaps break all of the Doctor's fingers or hold him suspended in mid air, without a surface to tap against. But he wanted to be there, in person, for this. And maybe, just maybe, he was the faintest bit curious.

The Master stalked down the hall and opened the door casually as possible, as if the noise didn't bother him in the least, and gave the Doctor a nice, even stare.

"Well. You seem far more lively from the last time I checked in on you. Have a nice rest?"

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

"Well you've been busy and I've had a lot of time to myself," the Doctor answered, his fingers still tapping out that rhythm against the floor, just the tiniest, maddening bit off from the beat he knew echoed in the Master's head.

"How's the House? Recovered any? Seemed like it upset you a bit when that attack happened. Not too much to deal with, I hope?" He smiled amiably, as though this were just a regular conversation between two friends and nothing more, like he wasn't purposely trying to wind the Master up with the drumming of his fingers.

A moment longer, just to let it sink in a bit more, and the Doctor glanced down at his own hand as though surprised to see it was doing that. "Oh, sorry! Not bothering you, is it? Think I might have it a bit out of sync with yours."

[syncopath]

The Master's eyes were narrowed through all of that smug chatter, but rather than focusing specifically on the words, there was only room in his mind for two things at the moment.

He knows something. And then, on the heels of that-- It's wrong. The drumbeat, the one he knew so intimately, the one he'd lived with all of his life. The Doctor's imperfect version jarred with it, and, as his mind was still reeling from the attack, it was having the intended effect. The Master's eyes, as much as he tried to keep them on the Doctor, kept shooting down to those tapping fingers instead, until he'd finally had enough.

"Stop it," he snapped, and then clenched his jaw, realizing he'd lost by speaking out.

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

It was having the desired effect, he could tell. As much as the Master was trying to keep his eyes focussed on the Doctor's face, his gaze kept dropping to the fingers tapping casually on the floor, the slightly-out beat that the Doctor was fairly certain was felt through the floorboards as much as it was heard. He half imagined he could have said anything at this point and the Master wouldn't have been listening to him as much as the drumming of his fingers.

Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap--

The Doctor obligingly stopped mid-beat, folding his hands in his lap and smiling pleasantly. "You only had to ask.

"Anyway, I wanted to have a chat, so it was good of you to come by when I called."

[syncopath]

The relief he felt when the Doctor's tapping stopped wasn't immense enough to completely temper his anger at his continued insolence, but it was still quite palpable. He couldn't have that sort of distraction again. The Master nodded to the Drudges stationed in the room, and they obediently reached to restrain the Doctor's wrists, their movements even stiffer than usual. The House was still healing, and everything hurt.

"What makes you think I'm going to let you talk?" he shot back in the same pleasant tone, reaching into his pocket to pull out the screwdriver. He'd rather hear the Doctor scream.

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

He didn't resist the Drudges pulled him up and held him, as he hadn't resisted almost every other time so far. His hearts sped up a little when the Master produced his screwdriver, but the Doctor kept the small smile on his face, shifting his weight more onto one leg absently.

"Because," he said, tapping his foot against the floor, matching the rhythm in the Master's head.

Tap tap tap tap.

"I've heard them. The drums."

Tap tap tap tap.

"I know what they are. And I might tell you, if we end this now. Let me go, and you can find out about them."

[syncopath]

The Master stiffened like a dog on point when the Doctor's foot resumed the imitation drumbeat, but correctly this time. He sucked in a breath, his eyes nearly closed, unable not to listen and believe in the wake of that steady pulse.

They were real. And the Doctor... he knew. He'd even heard them, at some point in their future. Worked out what they really were. The Master's eyes widened suddenly as the full implications of that hit him.

"Tell me," he commanded, screwdriver still in hand as he stalked forward, stopping inches in front of the other Time Lord and placing the tip of the device firmly against his throat. It was unconscionable that the Doctor could know more about his drums, his future, than he did.

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

The Doctor raised his chin slightly, watching the Master and keeping a careful guard on his own feelings, especially with the laser screwdriver pressed to his throat. So far it was going well, or at least as well as he'd expected, but there was always the chance of the Master deciding to try something unexpected, or deciding to try some other, more painful options before taking the route the Doctor was aiming towards.

"I'd be careful with that if I were you," he commented. "It'll be a bit difficult for me to tell you much of anything if I can't speak."

He shifted again, tugging at the Drudges holding his arms in case the Master had forgotten they were there somehow. "Like I already told you; let me go, and then we'll talk. You won't find out any other way now, will you?"

I'm sobbing already inside ;A;

[syncopath]

Oh, he had no intention whatsoever of letting the Doctor go. There were other ways to make him talk.

The Master shifted the screwdriver down to the Doctor's shoulder, pressing into it deeply before firing. It was currently only on one of the neuropathic functions, designed to hurt without tangible injury, but at a high setting. Any higher, in fact, and he ran the risk of having the Doctor pass out from the pain. And he was rapidly losing his patience.

"Tell me," he repeated. "Or should I invite Ms. Jones to this little reunion?" The Master pulled the Doctor's tablet from another pocket with his free hand, waggling it a bit.

"Why don't we send her a message, hmm? I'll bet she'd get here rather quickly, don't you think?" Once the Master's head had cleared after Aximili's little rampage across Mount Perdition, he'd remembered what he'd seen. Project Indigo, she'd called it. A teleportation device. "No time at all."

It's okay, soon the Master will be sobbing aloud! :D /shot

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

He couldn't answer immediately, the pain flooding his head was, oddly enough, not making him inclined to do much more than yell in agony, twisting against the grip of the Drudges. Even when the Master stopped to repeat his demand and make a threat against Martha as well, the Doctor had to take a moment to regain himself.

He took his time, slowly getting his feet back under himself so he wasn't hanging in the Drudges' arms and swallowing hard to alleviate the painful, dry feeling of his throat, worn out from shouting.

"No, leave her alone," he said, his voice low and a touch raspier than he'd expected. "She's nothing to do with this. I know what they sound like because one day you'll share them with me. Mind to mind. I've seen what they lead you to."

You just made my hearts hurt a little :/

[syncopath]

"Did I?" The Master raised an eyebrow, passing the tablet to one of the Drudges without another word. Now, at least, they were getting somewhere. This Doctor was almost too easy to control; it was something of a shame. Either he was getting weaker with each regeneration or their game was becoming old, the appropriate buttons to press too obvious.

"And why would I bother doing a thing like that?" He didn't disbelieve the Doctor, not exactly. But he also couldn't imagine himself sharing anything with him either. Being quite that desperate. And yet.

I've seen what they lead you to.

He had to know.

Just a little? 'kay, I'll try harder.

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

"I didn't believe you," he answered simply. He had to be more careful; the Master was obviously and understandably suspicious of what he was hearing, and if the Doctor couldn't get this to work, well he'd have a lot more to worry about than the Master just testing his screwdriver on him.

It was a good thing he was fairly good at getting out of tight situations like this then.

"I didn't believe you and you wanted me to and... look, it was a bit complicated and hard to explain if you weren't there yourself. So how about you let me go, give me that-" he nodded his head towards the tablet "-back, and then I sort of give you the cliff notes version? Alright? No need to get anyone else involved, is there?"

[syncopath]

The Master bristled at that. Cliffs Notes? As if he'd ever let the Doctor get away with telling him anything but the whole story. As if he couldn't understand it properly! He snarled, about to pick another body part to coerce the Doctor with... and then he stopped.

There was a better way. A faster way. And far more reliable than simple words.

"Oh, I don't think so, Doctor," he said hurriedly, tucking the screwdriver away again and grasping the other Time Lord's temples. "You're going to show me. Right now."

The connection had risks, of course, but he wasn't so worried about them in this case. The Doctor was weak, tired. Nearly compliant. The Master had always been stronger at this game. He'd built up defenses over the centuries, and it wasn't as if he were sharing his mind with the Doctor.

He'd quite forgotten, for the moment, his link with the House.

[ialwayscomeback.livejournal.com]

The Doctor resisted, of course. It would have been too suspicious not to and, since he didn't particularly like what he was about to do, it wasn't hard to feign reluctance in the least.

"There's a better way," he protested, trying and failing to pull away from the Master's hands. But it was too late now and he'd already given the Master every opportunity. This was the only path left for the Doctor to take and be able to escape.

He waited until he could feel the press of the Master's mind against his, then the Doctor relaxed into the connection.

"I just want you to know, I'm sorry," he sighed.

Then he struck.

://////////////////////////

[syncopath]

The Master scarcely heard him, so deep into the connection as he was already, attempting to break his way into the Doctor's mind. He'd batted away the feeble protests, holding it firmly within his grasp and pushing mercilessly, and now... now the Doctor was beginning to yield. Now he'd see what his future held, and what was being kept from him.

His smile was incredibly short-lived as he realized that this wasn't what he'd been looking for. Not at all.

The atmosphere below was choked with smoke and dust, nearly obscuring the surface of the planet entirely, and though he was far removed from it the debris seemed to catch in his throat, making him gag and cough. The screens around him reflected the mounting chaos in perfect clarity. The Citadel's dome was shattered, broken, the corpses of Dalek and Time Lord ships alike piled up at its feet. Millions more were present above the destruction, in the skies and in the vacuum of space, some of them little more than flaming balls of wreckage sailing past on the monitors. Occasionally he could see glimpses of the Nightmare Child, here and there, gobbling up what it could, and he could hear the screams from both Dalek and Time Lord as they inadvertently flew into its open maw.

In some parts on Gallifrey, you could barely the orange sky anymore. Fires were still raging on Mounts Cadon and Lung. Nobody would ever put them out. The world below him was rapidly becoming a wasteland.

But very faintly, through the smoke and ash and flame, he could just glimpse what looked like red fields, the peaks of a very familiar House. Throughout this entire war, incredibly, Mount Perdition had survived. What were the odds?

His small smile vanished in an instant as he heard the high, grating voice of the Dalek Emperor, raised in victory. They'd gotten to the Cruciform. And in the next instant, those red fields were aflame, the House a smoking ruin, and he was screaming...

The Master yanked his mind back, severing the connection with an agonized yell, but it was far too late. The Doctor's memories had burned into his brain, mixing with his own to create a reality that was somehow even more terrifying. He stared sightlessly as he stumbled back to the wall and slid down it, the House's absolute hysteria at seeing itself destroyed overcoming his senses. He didn't know he was still screaming, nor that there were now tears in his eyes. All he knew was horror.

The House began to shake as if possessed, worse than anything before. Doors flew open and closed, furniture skittered across the room or collapsed without warning, spilling their contents onto the floor. Books and candlesticks whizzed through the air, and the walls seemed to warp, as if writhing in agony. The Drudges dropped the Doctor unceremoniously and crumpled to the ground, the life temporarily gone out of them without a stable mind to sustain their function.