#amimadinaqueueorbackintime - queue

for @sciencebeyondmagic

Cautiously the Master removed his hands from his ears and breathed a sigh in relief. Silence. The beating of the drums, it had subsided once more to a mere low drumming noise echoing in his skull. It was almost comforting to know they were still there, albeit more quite and not as deafening as only just a second ago.

He opened his eyes, hestiant and blinking rapidly, taking in his surroundings and slowly realising where he was as the reality caught up with him. There was Saeya right next to him. Had she been talking to him?

Oh, this was fantastic! Broken chains. The freedom. The madness! It was all his. All his again. Chuckling lowly at first, then giving in to liberating loud laughter the Master proclaimed his rapture. The source of which, a golden fobwatch, opened, still resting in the palm of his blood smeared hands.

“How I’ve missed being me!” No more stupid charades. No more DI Sam Tyler of the Manchester and Salford Police. Only the Master. Universally the Master. A Master of all. But most importantly, a master of his own fate.

‘ i’m trying to trust you, but that’s going to take some time. ’

No. Heartbeat pounding harshly in his ear—god he feels like he’s going to faint. He recalls the last moment that face was in his presence and feels his whole body turn icy. The Year That Never Was, one of the most terrible times in the captain’s interminable life full of torturous acts that left permanent traumatic scars on his psyche. Even with all the years that passed from that terrible time there are still nights where he is plagued with that man’s face—and that laugh. Jack is much stronger now then he was. He’s got a harder exterior without the hopeful thoughts of the Doctor coming back to him. He doesn’t have anyone to hold him back from doing anything cruel. He has nothing. “I thought you were dead.” With his heart still beating erratically the captain shows no emotions on his face. His body is screaming to take out his pistol that’s hidden in a secret inner coat pocket and pull the trigger. The man showed Jack no mercy, why should he kind? For the reason he could not be certain if the man who stands before him is the Master. “Guess I shouldn’t expect anything different—Time Lords don’t usually stay dead.”

Oh? Interesting thesis. Yet, he’d beg to differ. In his time he’s seen his fair share of Time Lords die and not come back to life. Some even died by his own hand. Though none of this mattered now. Not when he was talking to a professional in the coming back to life business.

“Funny how you phrased that. How’s immortality treating you? Have you died recently?,” the Master smirked, revelling in making nonchalant remarks and veiling his motives in an air of such lighthearted small-talk that it stung and burned just as much as his usual vitriolic words.

He showed no fear, displayed no wariness, even though at the back of his mind he was constantly weighing his chances of survival. The Master was playing with fire, that he knew, but if he took no risks he would reap no rewards.

The Doctor looked at the blood then shook his head. "No...No it doesn't." Placing a hand on his chest he tried to stop the bleeding from his wound. "Please...Please help me?"

He hate begging and asking for help. But he was in so much pain. Closing his eyes for a moment he thought to himself. "What do you want? To watch me bleed out and die?"

“Interesting concept,” the Master mused aloud while he was half-circling his prey the Doctor, fingers dancing and drumming on the table as he passed it by. “You would know all about letting someone bleed to death in your arms, wouldn’t you?” 

‘ it’s nothing big. ’

❝Get AWAY FROM ME!❞

“Oh don’t you start yelling, young man,” the Master quipped, instrumentalising the fatherly authority Sam used to be and have, turning it into a grotesque joke for cheap amusement. “Have you no manners? What would dear Sammy say? What would dear Sarah Jane say, hm?” He chuckled and pointed at the two chairs at the kitchen table.