#simplicityofcontrol

“We don’t have time for a break!” The Doctor warned, only slowing slightly as he grabbed the Master’s arm to pull him along. This wasn’t the first time he had needed to stop for some air and the Doctor was beginning to become concerned. 

“We’re almost there.” He assured him, practically dragging him now. He could hear the angry growls of the aliens that were gaining on them, the only sound more concerning being the harsh breaths coming from the Master. 

He fumbled for the key when they finally reached the TARDIS, making quick work of unlocking it before shoving the Master inside ahead of him. He slumped against the door when they were finally inside, taking in deep breaths as he listened to the pounding of fists outside. 

He only felt relief for a few moments before his eyes landed on the Master, the relief quickly turning to worry as he thought of his shortness of breath. 

@simplicity-of-control

Shit.

Shit, shit, SHIT.

He shouldn't have come.

He thought that he had been ready. He had (foolishly) believed that he could handle hot climats once again. That balmy beach planets would just make him more laid back. That the heat of the place wouldn't bring him back to The War.

And, to be fair, he had done decently --in the milder warmth of the morning. Yes, it still had him hypervigilanct, but at least he wasn't reliving anything. He should have been content with that. It was progress, after all.

But noooo, he had just had to stick around. He had been enjoying the sights too much, not having indulged himself in more desert-like planets due to the flashbacks they brought on in so long. And now, in the scorching heat of the mid-day suns, the Doctor couldn't breathe. The heat was suffocating him. He couldn't even get his respiratory bypass to kick in. Or was that just the mounting panic that was constricting his airways, and crushing his lungs?

The Doctor tried forcing himself to breathe deep, as a way to calm himself --

-- only to smell smoke. (It was coming from a nearby street vendor's stall, roasting meat on a small, charcoal fire). His hearts began to race. In a blink of an eye, the Doctor wasn't on Sharaz-Dé anymore. At least, his consciousness wasn't.

All he could see was Arcadia, burning.

He felt like a cornered rabbit, not helped by the fact that he had inconciously backed himself against the plaster wall of the nearest house, seeking to ground himself (to no avail). He crouched down and curled himself into a ball.

Dark Verse.

texts the other memes at 3 am: Rose sends them. She has trouble sleeping and tends to blow up his phone sometimes. 

tries to convince the other to do an idea that definitely sounds questionable: The Master. He can be very convincing.

is the designated driver and who always gets wasted: The Master tends to be the one to get Rose home. She doesn’t handle her liquor (or other substances) well. 

always has to host the impromptu sleepover: Rose. The Master tends to drop by unannounced, even letting himself in… 

who’s netflix account gets mooched off of: Rose’s. 

brings all the snacks and who supplies the movie: Rose has no problem letting them choose from her movie collection as long as the Master will bring her some chips or crisps.

is usually the first one to say sorry after a fight: This one’s hard since they’re both stubborn, but I think Rose would probably cave first. She’d get too bored waiting for the Master to come around.

is the ‘ mom friend ‘: Rose. Only because she’ll be the one to try and talk the Master out of smashing some blokes head in… sometimes.

calls the other at 12 am to wish the other a happy birthday without fail: The Master. He’s much better at keeping up with time after all.

is the better wingman to the other: Neither really. Rose would be too jealous to help the Master find another hookup, unless it had to do with a certain vampire hunter..

‘ the strong must protect the sweet ‘ , who’s the ‘ strong ‘ and who’s the ‘ sweet ‘: Rose will argue that she’s the strong, but she’s definitely the sweet.